Sleep Tight
by Spruceton Spook
Summary: Ash and Co. find themselves trapped in a graveyard for the night, much to the fear of scardycat Misty. Can she survive the most frightening night of her life and deal with Ash's taunting antics? AAMR with a spooky twist!
1. "Misty, I've Come From the Grave!"

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Sleep Tight

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by Spruceton Spook

Chapter 1

"Misty, I've Come From the Grave!"

I have to admit, we've spent the night in some really strange places. Spooky, dark woods with all the unfamiliar sounds; lonely, windy beaches; dozens of Pokémon Centers, some of which I wouldn't stay at again if someone paid me. Then there are all the people we've ended up staying with one way or another, and although I usually got a bed and a hot meal out of it, it didn't mean they were the most comfortable places in the world. I can't say anything about it though -- I shouldn't. I'm a Pokémon trainer, and it comes with that . . . you can't always have the comforts of home right at your fingertips. Weird nights are just something you come to deal with.

But there was no way I could deal with this. Out of all the places we've stayed, this one beats them all by a landslide. I would've traded this one in for any of the awful nights I had to endure previously. They were _nothing_ compared to this.

I don't like cemeteries. They creep me out -- a lot. They always have; it's just something that stuck with me since I was really little. I could remember walking or driving by one and shutting my eyes, waiting for them to vanish from sight. It didn't matter what they looked like. The creepy ones or the "beautiful" ones, as some people claimed, it served as no difference. I hated them and anything that had to do with them. My deepest, darkest nightmares always seemed to involve them someway, leading me into the presence of horrible ghosts and spirits, their endlessly empty eyes glowing at me and their ghoulish hands reaching out to grab me. Movies with cemeteries sent me wailing out of the room, funerals would have me shaking uncontrollably and hiding my face into my parents' side and grasping their clothes for dear life. 

I've gotten better about them . . . I've grown enough to realize that there's really nothing to be afraid of. That doesn't mean they don't still succeed in making me queasy and hesitant to be near, though. I like to keep my healthy distance from them. I have nothing to do with them, and they have nothing to do with me. That's the way I've made it for a while.

But that was before we had to set up camp in one.

It was just a normal day as always. We were exhausted, the evening was approaching. Ash had insisted we walk consistently fast the entire day, and Brock seemed to have the same aspiration since it was possible to make it to the next town by nightfall. I had nothing to complain about -- towns meant a roof over our head and the comforting feeling of security. You don't get that out in the woods, which is where we had to spend the last five nights. It's amazing the distance between these tiny towns . . . they never look so big on the map. You have to walk them first to realize it.

My feet were feeling every step of the hike we had taken. Togepi was conked out in my arms, which I was steadily becoming jealous of. I couldn't wait to rest my head that night, close my droopy eyes, and sleep. Tomorrow wouldn't be too much of a hassle . . . Ash was going to be battling for a badge, and I could cross my legs, lean back, and watch the whole thing in relaxation. To me, Breslau Town wasn't close enough. I wished I could magically transport us there, right to our room at the Pokémon Center, and not have to travel the rest of the short way.

A feeling of undeniable bliss flew through me as we entered the town. The sun was just about setting behind the western mountains, the air was muggy but enjoyably warm, and the silent chirping of birds made the most wonderful audible backdrop. Breslau Town was not highly developed at all . . . I would say Pallet Town was more inhabited, making it surprising that this was the site of yet another Johto League gym. From the outskirts of it, it looked pleasant and comfy, well-kept. The highest building in sight was a two-story house. All we could see before us was a dusty dirt road and bright green lawns. Hordes of trees and patches of wildflowers dotted all over the place.

None of us uttered a word as we strolled down the road. Brock had the map clutched in his hands, but he was hardly looking at it. The scenery demanded to be stared at. Ash's eyes were darting here and there, taking in the sights, while his hand was lifted to stroke Pikachu's head, who was perched atop his shoulder. I don't know if it was our weariness that was causing this or the gorgeous town that lay before us, but it wasn't important. I don't think I'd felt more tranquil in days.

That was until _it_ hopped across the road. If it were just Brock and me, I would have said it escaped disregarded, gone on its own way and went on with its own business. But when you're traveling with Ash Ketchum, you can just throw thoughts like that away. No Pokémon dared to cross his path without expecting a challenge in return.

Ash shouting out in glee as the Nidoran dashed across the road, sending up a cloud of dust behind its scampering little feet. It caught me by surprise. I had seen the Nidoran, but considering all the quietness and peace, I would have never expected Ash to just break out of it so suddenly. Raising his fist into the air and knocking poor Pikachu to the ground, Ash reached for numerous Pokéballs at his belt and darted after it. Brock and I had no choice but to follow.

"Ash, c'mon!" I shouted to him, watching his bumpy imagine chase helplessly before me. I couldn't believe my legs were working as much as they were. Togepi awoke in my arms and began to cry, the sound of it causing me to cringe. "Stop! Leave it alone!"

"No way!" he called back to me, his voice all shaken up. He was huffing and puffing. "I'm not letting this one get away!"

"Ash, it's late! Forget about it for now!" Brock cried. I could tell he was about as tired as I was.

Ash totally ignored us, instead tossing a Pokéball in the air and shouting out for its inhabitant to emerge. Chikorita came out and chased beside Ash before he ordered her to track down the Nidoran instead, which every once in a while I caught a blurry glimpse of. I just pumped my legs more and more and breathed choppily through my dry mouth. I couldn't even swallow . . . my body was shot.

I don't know whatever happened to the poor Nidoran, but it didn't end up with us. Brock and I followed pathetically behind Ash, who was making distance on us with every step he took. There were times when I wanted to stop, just rest and wait there for Brock to catch him and bring him back so we could continue to head for the Pokémon Center. But this was Ash, after all . . . I couldn't do that. It wasn't that I didn't trust him, or that I hated to leave him out of my sight for two seconds, but the boy does some pretty dumb things, and gets into some pretty dumb situations. The last thing I needed was for him to get hurt tonight and need yet more medical attention. I wanted to spend the night in the Pokémon Center, not the hospital.

I hardly knew where I was heading until I got there. The trip there was that arduous. I could feel my body lagging and my lungs crying out for air, and every once in a while my eyes shut without my consent. This is not what I needed after such a long and tiring day. But mostly, I didn't need to end up where I did.

I screeched to a halt, taken by such surprise that I was unable to stop in time. Brock nearly crashed into me from behind. I felt his hands slam into my back, sending me a bit forward, but other than that I froze solid. Graves were to the right of me, graves were to the left of me, graves were ahead of me. I was surrounded by the wretched things, all the which jutted from the ground in the most precarious positions, all different colors of grays, whites, and slates. The grass was high, tickling my bare legs, sending chills down my spine. That wasn't the main thing causing my restless shivers . . . if a mirror were before me, I would have guessed I had turned pure white. I could even feel the blood draining from my face.

"Misty!" Brock yelled aggravatedly at me. He came before me, looking utterly peeved, his attention alternating between me and Ash, who was still running. His head kept swinging from me to Ash. "What's the deal? Why'd you stop like that!? Let's go!"

I didn't respond to him. I lost my ability to speak, to comprehend. I think he could tell my sudden displeasure, for he gave me the oddest look. He was breathing heavily, and noticing that Ash was about a mile ahead of us, he was also hasty to get back to the chase. 

"What's the matter with you!?" he demanded, already on his toes in Ash's direction. He motioned me to follow with furious waves of his hand. "Let's go! We're gonna lose Ash! _Misty!_"

My eyes left him, scanning unwillingly at the stone demons around me. Togepi wiggled helplessly in my arms, wanting to get down and run, too, but instead I clutched him with all my might. There was no way I was going to go any further into this . . . this . . . _place_. I just couldn't. No force was powerful enough to make me take another step. 

Brock didn't seem to think so, however. Before I had a chance to realize it, he grabbed my wrist, almost hard enough to yank my arm out of its socket. I felt my neck snap backwards as he jerked me forward. 

"C'mon, we're gonna lose him!" Brock bawled, his grip on my wrist tightening. My feet were planting themselves into the soft earth, like they had a mind of their own, almost. I was pulled a few feet forward, but it was obvious Brock was struggling to tag me along.

How could he even think of going in there? And more unbelievably, how could he think that he was going to pull _me _any further in? Ash was zipping between graves recklessly -- I was able to focus enough to see that. He was still headstrong in pursuit of that Nidoran. Running amongst the graves with no care for what they were, or where he was. Brock was willing to go in further. I could tell by the way he was pulling me viciously to follow. I knew they weren't like me . . . not everyone was as afraid of cemeteries as I was, but I still could never understand how people couldn't be scared.

I guess Brock wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. He had no idea, of course, what was up with me. I hadn't spoken a word. I had suddenly zoned out, and I know that boggled him. He looked confused, but he also looked overwhelmed. Beads of sweat poured down his brow. 

"Misty!" he growled, bearing his teeth. He gave me a jerk. "Snap out of it!" He turned back to Ash's direction. "Ash! Stop! ASH!"

He held my wrist the whole time, unbeknownst to him that he was digging his fingernails into my skin. I continued to fight back. All the muscles in my body tightened and my heart raced. I clenched my eyes shut as my mind began to spin. I felt myself becoming woozy, slightly nauseous. I was scared . . . but why? I thought . . . I thought I was somewhat over this . . .

Brock was totally anxious now. Ash had vanished from sight. God only knows where he chased that Pokémon, but Brock was eager to find out. I was no match against his desire. With all his might, he got me moving.

"I don't know what the heck is wrong with you, but I'm not losing you, too!" he said as he dragged me along. 

I shut my eyes and took deep breaths. There was nothing else I could do. I allowed Brock to lead me through the cemetery, weaving between graves. The grass was beginning to whip at my legs and my ankles were weakening. I went on, though. I finally opened my eyes after a few moments, wanting in part to know where I was going. I looked down at the graves as we swept by them, all different sizes and shapes. I gulped. 

"Ash!" Brock continued to yell over and over again, his head rolling around his neck in search of him. Stupid kid. He just had to chase that Pokémon, had to lead us here. Out of all the ridiculous, insane things to do, especially after such an excruciating day, he had to do this. I couldn't wait to find him, to wring his neck and kill him. I hope the Nidoran got away . . . or better yet, I hope it made a pummeling, head-driving tackle attack into Ash.

"ASH!"

"I'm here!" he replied in a shout, and Brock halted. I bumped softly into him, my eyes widening. We were right in the center of the cemetery now. I looked back at where we came, noticing that the entrance was out of sight. It was a large cemetery. How could a small town like Breslau have such a large cemetery? And an incredibly freaky one at that!? It looked so old and decrepit, unused and forgotten. It looked like one of those cemeteries you see in those old black-and-white movies . . .

I didn't want to think about it. I wanted out. I was relieved to see Ash sprinting towards us, Pikachu cantering tiredly at his side. His other Pokémon were not there, and he didn't look too happy, either.

"That was just great, Ash!" Uh-oh, now Ash faced the wrath of cranky Brock. Good. "What the heck do you think you were doing? Are you crazy?"

"It got away!" Ash whined, totally ignoring what Brock was screaming at him otherwise. He grabbed his hat and tossed it angrily to the ground. "I was _so_ close!"

"Pika!" Pikachu moaned, plopping to the ground. The poor creature was probably hungry and overheated. 

Brock shook his head. "Ash, we're tired and hungry! The last thing we need is for you to run off and go _chasing after a Pokémon!_"

"It was a Nidoran!" Ash shrugged in self-defense. "C'mon, Brock, that's a rare find!"

"I don't _care!_" Brock growled back. I guess he wasn't in the mood to yell, either, because he dismissed the case. "Whatever, let's go. We need to get to the Pokémon Center, and I want to get there before dark! This is a new town, and I don't know where anything is."

Ash huffed and picked up his hat, settling it on his head. Brock said not another word, and gruffly turned back the way we came and stomped forward. I hesitated none in following. Ash was beside me as we hauled ourselves briskly out of there, and there was no better way I would have done it. The sooner we were out of there, the better. I said nothing, either. Brock had given up trying to figure out my dilemma, and that was fine with me. My fear of cemeteries was something I didn't need to make public. They would just find so many ways of putting that against me, and it wasn't worth it. As long as we were leaving, I guess I could contain myself for the short time.

I thought I was going to die. Well, considering where we were, I guess it was the most appropriate place, but I didn't want to even think that way. My stomach leapt up and my legs crumpled. It took a few minutes to fully take in what I was seeing before me, what unimaginable thing had just occurred. 

We had reached the gate. I didn't remember seeing a gate when I ran in, but I was going too fast anyway. Suddenly, here was a gate. A closed gate. It was tall and black, I'd say about nine feet at that. It was made of bars, all soaring to the sky and shooting up into sharp, nasty-looking spikes. Ash, Brock, and I skidded to a stop before it simultaneously, frozen for a second. That second enough was all I needed to start panicking. I wasn't ready to believe anything yet. After all, just because a gate is closed doesn't necessarily mean . . .

And then again, maybe it does. I watched in horror as Ash walked up to it, first pulling at it and then pushing it. The gate's door banged loudly, moving only a couple inches in each direction. It continued to shake even after Ash released it. It didn't comfort me to see that his eyes were wide. 

I stopped breathing. There was no way this could be happening . . .

Brock went up to it and did the same thing. When he got the same devastating result that Ash did, he repeated it, more roughly this time. As he did, my head wandered, glancing around at the premises. The fence extended in both directions, sweeping around the edge of the cemetery. It looked endless. I hoped it wasn't endless. But more importantly, I hoped Brock was going to be able to open it.

"I can't believe this," Brock mumbled, stepping away from the gate. His hands went up to rub his forehead. 

Neither could I . . . I wouldn't . . .

"Don't tell me," Ash started incredulously, shaking his head. 

Brock didn't reply. He just grabbed at the gate again and pulled. He did this only once, but afterwards I saw him reach for something else. I hoped it wasn't what I thought it was.

Brock arms entwined in the bars, holding the large, gray box in his hands. I watched him tug at it hard, groaning as he did. It was what I had feared. It was a lock.

"Oh my God," Brock muttered, stepping away again. He exchanged a short, blank look with both me and Ash. He didn't need to say anything. The look of his face was all the information I needed.

"Are we locked in here?" Ash gasped, his voice high.

Brock was stunned. "I . . . I think we are, but . . ."

"That can't be! It wasn't closed when we ran in here!" Ash seemed freaked. 

I could feel myself sinking as each second passed, as each statement passed between Ash and Brock.

"Well, it's closed now," Brock replied.

"How? Why?" Ash questioned, pulling unsuccessfully at the gate again. The clanging of the bars against the lock made me shudder miserably.

Brock ran his hands through his unruly, spiky hair. "I . . . the only thing I can think of is that this is one of those graveyards they close at night."

That's when I jumped in. I think my outburst shocked them as much as it did me. "Are you saying that in that short time we were in here, someone came and locked this thing up?" The words came out so quickly and with such anguish that it was amazing they caught them. My tongue even felt tied after shouting it out, but that was the least of my concern.

Brock shrugged weakly. "Looks that way, Misty."

Something within my snapped. I shook as I felt it, clenching my fists shut and pulling Togepi in closely to me. Slowly, my head began to shake back and forth, and my stuttering thoughts began to pour from my lips.

"No!" I protested, my voice rising to a deafening shriek. "We can't! We can't be locked in here!"

I looked distressfully at Brock, biting down on my lips and pointing towards the barricade. "Brock, no! You have to open it!"

"Misty--"

"Open it!" I cried, feeling tears pool in my eyes. "Please!"

Brock's eyes darted insanely. "With what, Misty?" he choked, give me a face. "Those amazing mental powers I have!? What do you want me to do, will the gate open?"

I didn't say a word, my mouth dropping open. Of course, my demand was ridiculous, and Brock went on, pointing to Ash and snickering in disbelief.

"And we all know Ash is He-Man here," he chuckled. "Maybe he can break the lock with his bare hands!"

He and Ash erupted in laughter, glancing at each other with their wide, taunting grins. I couldn't believe they could laugh now, that they could make such light joking out of the horrible situation we were in. Cemetery or not, it was not fun to be confined. We were trapped, and I wasn't ready for Ash and Brock to just make fun of it.

I remained speechless as they laughed, gawking at them in skepticism. They didn't look like they were about to let up. Ash was becoming red in the face even, but that might have just been a combination of Brock's rotten sense of humor and his chase. Finally, Brock noticed that I was by no means amused, and he fought to stop his laughing.

"Oh come on, Misty," he said, coughing from the laughter. He came near me, but I backed away. "Chill out. What's the matter?"

I just shook my head at him, my eyes watering even more. Ash could tell something was wrong.

"Misty, we were just having fun," he shrugged, smiling softly. He chuckled again. "That was pretty funny."

Brock started laughing again, and that was it for me.

"There's nothing funny about this!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. I delighted in seeing them retreat suddenly. "We have to get out of here!"

"Why?" Brock asked. _Why?_ What did he mean by _why_? What could he _possibly _mean by that?

"Why!?" I gasped. 

"Yeah," Ash put in. "We're locked in here. We can't get out. What's wrong with that?"

It was astonishing I didn't faint then and there with the heavy dizziness that enclosed my head. "What!? No, I--"

"Misty, calm down," Brock said, grinning. "It's not that big a deal."

My eyes widened. "What do you mean, it's no _big deal_?" I was positively screaming now. I looked around at the cemetery, darkening as the sun continued to set. Its orange rays cast upon the boys' faces, confused yet slightly humored. "Look where we are!"

Ash and Brock quickly scanned the cemetery around them. Shrugging, Brock came over to me again, but I didn't back away. Ash came up beside him, too, curiosity written all over his face. Brock cocked his head as he neared me. "Misty, you have to calm down. What's the matter with you?"

I had to tell them. There was no way around it, and the more their looks badgered me, the more I realized it was nothing that serious. So I had a phobia -- among others -- but what difference did that make? 

I took a deep breath. "We're in a cemetery," I muttered, my tone dropping in volume. "I -- I don't like cemeteries."

Ash grinned . . . it wasn't a nice grin. It made me sick as soon as I saw it, and my stomach sunk. "You're afraid of cemeteries?" he exclaimed, amusement peaking in his voice. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," I shot at him, suddenly regaining myself. Ash could do that to me in any situation if he was annoying enough. I watched as the grin spread from ear to ear, and his white teeth sparkled from behind his lips. I have no idea how I could like such a face that just asked to be pounded so constantly. "There something funny about that, Ash Ketchum!?"

Ash turned away, his hand flying to his mouth. He was stifling giggling, I just knew it. I looked up at Brock, somewhat expecting consolation and understanding, but I was shocked to see just the opposite. Brock was smiling, also.

I tore away from them backwards, shooting them venomous glares. I stopped abruptly when my legs brushed against a grave, which, despite the warm temperatures, chilled me to the bone. I yelped as it occurred, causing them to exchange looks.

"Misty," Brock managed to say through a giggle as he turned back to me, "it's okay, really."

"Yeah, Misty," Ash added, finally controlling himself. "It's just a graveyard."

"I don't care," I stated forcefully. "It's a graveyard and I hate it. I don't want to be here."

Brock tilted his head. "Well, we have no choice. We're locked in here."

I wasn't ready to accept that. I blinked. "I am not going to be locked in here tonight! There's no way!"

"I wish I could say the same!" Brock replied. "But there's nothing we can do. Look, we're safe in here, no more in danger than we are in the woods. We'll just sleep here tonight and get out when they open the gate in the morning. No biggie."

"I can't do that!" I pouted. No, no, I didn't want to sound that way . . . I didn't want them to see me weakening. But it was no use.

"What are you afraid of?" Ash asked, waltzing over to me. "There's nothing here!"

"Nothing here?" I spat. "How can you say that? We're standing above a bunch of dead people right now!"

"More specifically, one Wendy Carmichael," Brock said. I spun around to read the grave I had bumped into, and promptly jumped off the sacred ground. Brock laughed and bent down to read the rest. "Hmmmm. Loving wife, mother, and grandmother. Oh, lookie! Died in 1934. Wow, that's old."

"Stop it!" I cried, stomping my foot. I felt Togepi squeak timidly in my arms. I knew he never liked when I did that, so for his sake, I tried to calm myself. I cuddled him close to me. 

"Stop what?" Ash sang. I looked over to see him smiling at me. I was ready to tell him that I wasn't speaking to him, but he proceeded to prance in circles around a bunch of graves, waving his arms around. Scary or not, I shivered from his disrespect for the dead. He stopped before a headstone and glanced at it. "You telling me you're scared of poor Stanley Harrington? What did he do to you?"

I ground my teeth. "No!" I responded. "It's just that . . . I'm not scared, I--"

"Died in 1953!" Ash continued, paying no heed to my agitated glare. He patted the grave, giving me a thoughtful look. "Say, Misty, know that movie _The Frighteners_? How all the dead peoples' ghosts sit on their graves at night and talk to each other?"

Which was precisely why I _didn't_ see that movie. Unfortunately for me, however, I did know the scene he was talking about, as my sisters had made sure to tell me each grueling detail after they had seen it. It was not making any of this better. Picturing that awful scene reluctantly in my mind made me shiver and shake my head rigidly.

"Stop it!" I demanded again, flashing him the nastiest look I could. I shut my eyes and tried to rid the scene out of my brain.

"Ooh, I saw that!" Great, Brock had to jump in now. I opened one eye to see him scratching his chin dubiously. "And remember how they didn't even look like real people? They were all decayed and rotted and their clothes were hanging off."

"Yeah!" Ash replied, his eyes reflecting the setting sun. His gaze swept over the expansive cemetery. "Wow, wonder if that's really true, Brock? That the spirits really do that at night?"

"Who knows?" Brock shrugged, looking down at Wendy Carmichael's headstone again. He waved to the air. "Hey Wendy, how's it goin? Hmm, for someone who died in 1934, you look remarkably well!"

I couldn't take any more of it. It was bad enough that we were in this horrible place, but to have the boys teasing me cruelly like this was unacceptable. They knew they were getting to me, which is exactly why I had never told them this. I swear, sometimes I don't know how the people I'm closest to could be so callous. Tears were threatening to drop now, but at this point, I didn't care. Maybe if they saw me cry they would know how serious I was. 

There was a silence between the three of us for some time. I chose not to look at Ash and Brock. In fact, I wasn't looking at much at anything. I stared down at Togepi, at his little, fuzzy spikes that twitched every now and then. He was getting tired, but I had lost all my urges and desires to sleep. There was no way I'd be able to settle until I was out of there, till I was on regular ground again and heading to the Pokémon Center. There had to be some way out of there. Sometimes cemeteries had night-watchmen . . . maybe one was here tonight, and had a key. But no, that probably wasn't true. With the looks of this place, why would anyone want to guard anything, especially when it was locked at night to keep intruders -- I guess that meant we were intruders -- out? And we weren't exactly in the middle of town, either. I could only see trees surrounding the place, not even the road we had come off of. The sky was growing darker and the air was becoming denser. I wondered if this cemetery was like the ones that got foggy at night . . . 

No! I wasn't going to think that! Thoughts like that were going to make me even weaker. I was still somewhat determined to get out of there, but after I saw Brock and Ash place their bags on the ground beside the tree that hovered over Wendy's grave, I lost some hope within me. I continued to stand where I was, paying no attention to the boys' calls to me. Occasionally, they would giggle under their breaths. I resented that. I hated when they acted this way. Plus, they weren't even going to try to get out, even after I had made such a fuss. Didn't that mean anything to them?

I was still standing as Brock unzipped his bag and pulled out the tent. That was when I really became uncomfortable, when it finally dawned on me that this wasn't a joke anymore. They were dead serious on spending the night here. How could they? How could anyone, even those who aren't as scared as me, want to spend the night amongst the dead? Isn't that the kind of things you did on Halloween, the ultimate dare? 

We hardly ever used the tent. If it was a nice night out, we would sleep under the stars in our sleeping bags. The tent was only for when it rained or it was windy and cold. My back was turned to them as he and Ash set it up, which didn't take too long.

"Hey, Misty, look," Brock said softly when they were done. "We set up the tent for ya tonight. It'll keep the hobgoblins out."

Ash laughed at that. I just arched my shoulders and turned my head. The boys smiled widely at me as I did, and Brock motioned me to come over. Instead, I looked up and above their heads, out at the graves that stretched before me. I could barely see far -- the sun was about set now, the sky was a deep, rich purple dotted with pink, fluffy clouds. Each grave seemed to cast a mile long shadow behind them, all shooting towards us. I hoped those shadows would go away soon.

I didn't say a word as I sat down, and neither did they . . . yet. There was something about their faces that I still didn't like. They looked . . . scheming almost. I could tell it in Ash's face easily. When our eyes met, he looked down and away, biting at his lip to keep the smile off. 

"I don't think we should make a fire tonight, guys," Brock announced, shuffling through his bag. "It's private property, and I don't feel like getting into trouble over it. It's not worth it. 'S that okay?"

Ash shrugged and nodded, but I couldn't control my mouth when the word 'no' spilled out of it in a creaky little squeal.

Brock gave me a jaded look. "Misty, come on now. Nothing is going to happen. There's no ghosts here or anything. Look, you're with me and Ash, and I put up the tent for you so that you would feel safer. What else can I do?"

I glanced down, pulling tediously at the grass at my feet. I was feeling a little bit better, but the thought of the long night before us was not exciting me. It was terrifying me. I knew what Brock was saying was true; there was nothing there. But I had no idea how I was going to get to sleep tonight, knowing where I was or the nightmares that I would get if I _did_ fall asleep. 

"Nothing," I replied inaudibly. I picked myself up and crawled into the tent, lit dimly by one of our small, electric lanterns. It surprisingly did make me feel more relaxed. Not seeing endless graves before me was a relief. As soon as I got in, I settled Togepi onto my blue sleeping bag and pulled my knees to my chin, shutting my eyes and trying to take hold of myself. I breathed deeply and soothingly, thinking of pleasant things in my mind, trying to forget the situation. And it was working, too. Brock and Ash's presence outside, though silent, was giving me a sense of confidence, and already the shelter from the tent was making me feel protected. Maybe -- just maybe, tonight wouldn't be so bad. I would survive . . .

_"Misty, I've come from the grave!"_

My head shot up instantly, and my heart took a painful leap. I could practically feel my eyes bugging out incredibly as millions of chills ran up my spine and through every part of my body. It originated entirely at my sides, causing by the cold, sharp clutch that had suddenly grabbed at my flesh and squeezed. I did what any normal person would do -- I screamed. It was a deafening, throat-stinging yell that escaped from the base of my lungs and lasted prolongly. My train of thought froze, but not my body; I sailed right into the other side of the tent, continuing to yelp and wail.

I flipped, and found myself staring right at Ash, who was doubled over in the entranceway of the tent, his face scrunched up in uncontrollable laughter. His hair flopped over his face as he heaved and guffawed, his eyes shut and draining tears. I didn't cease whimpering as I gaped at him, feeling the urge to cry overcome me. Without hesitation, I jumped and cracked my palm across his face, sneering at him.

__

"That wasn't funny!" I shrilled, sobs breaking through my voice. I watched as Ash reached up to rub his sore cheek, though his laughing had not stopped. He was trying to stop, I could tell that, but the whole outcome was certainly hard to ignore. After all, he had succeeded in what he wanted: to scare to living hell out of me. My eyes burned at him.

"Oww. Hehe, I'm sorry, Misty," Ash muttered, his voice all muffled as the bouts of giggled continued to come. I wished I hadn't slapped him -- I should've punched him. He took his hand away, revealing that his cheek was bright red. It didn't seem to affect him one way or another. "But that was just too good!"

Tears rolled down my face and my body shook. My heart was racing insanely, and with all the breathing I was doing, it was not helping in calming myself down. I gave him a look of pure loathing, spitting out my words spitefully and through sobs. 

"That was _not_ good! That was a horrible thing to do, Ash! Horrible!" I was crying loudly. He just gave me a slightly pained look, his mouth still desperate to grin. "It's bad enough that I'm so scared here, but do you have to do that? _Do you!?_"

I didn't give him a chance to reply. He was ready to, and even if it was the most heartfelt apology the world has ever heard, I didn't care. I viciously kicked out my foot, missing his face by inches. He instantly backed away.

"Get away from me!" I growled.

"Misty, I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely, offering his hand. "I was just having fun with ya."

"That's not fun!" I bawled. "That was cruel!"

"Okay, it was cruel," Ash admitted, shrugging. "I just had to do it once, Misty. I won't do it again, I promise. You're really easy to scare."

I turned away rigidly and narrowed my eyes. "Just leave me alone, okay?" I pleaded, not caring any more how pitiful I sounded. I needed some sympathy here.

Ash smiled. "Heh, you should come out here! It's great! You wouldn't believe the all the people we're meeting!"

_"Go away!"_ I yelled. At the same moment, I saw Brock's hands reach into the tent and pull Ash away.

"C'mon, Ash, leave her alone," he said wearily. Ash obliged and left the tent, the flaps of the entrance smacking shut behind him. I could hear him laughing from behind it. I stared at the opening, feeling my body finally beginning to relax. I pulled my knees to my chin again and buried my head in them, letting out the last of my shaky tears and licking my dry, rough lips. I needed to get out of here . . .

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Hi everyone!! Yay, it's good to be back! And with a story I've been putting off writing since my "Midnight! Pokéball Go!" days. Yeesh!! LOL Well, finally got around to it, another of my SpOoKy ones . . . though it'll sport its romance genre soon . . . Mwhahahahahaha! Um . . . you all like AAMR, right? You _don't_!? Oh well . . . ~_^ Heehee! 

Part 1 of 4! Hoped you liked this, so please review!


	2. "Don't You Wanna Be With Us, Misty?"

**Sleep Tight**

_by Spruceton Spook_

Chapter 2

"Don't You Wanna Be With Us, Misty?"

Why does Ash do this to me all the time? Yeah, I torment him just as much, but I never do something like this to him. I suppose he's right, though: I _am_ easy to scare. Maybe so easy that it just invites people to harass me like that. I shouldn't blame Ash for what he does. If I were in his shoes, I'd probably find this funny, too. I like it when he shows his sense of humor, which is pretty poor at times, but always makes me laugh. This, however, _does not_ make me laugh. I guess I'm just lame—I love his humor, but I hate it when it's directed toward me.

I lay down beside Togepi, who was asleep, but I didn't get into my sleeping bag yet. I wasn't ready to settle in. It was very early after all, probably only nine o'clock. I just wanted to relax, to get off my achy feet. I was feeling a lot better now. I was still annoyed at Ash, but that was subsiding like it normally does. I can't stay mad at him, I just can't. Chances are he'll probably even do something somewhat cute later to make up for it. I'm so pathetic, he'll probably just smile and I'll forgive him in an instant.

Ash and Brock were mysteriously quiet out there. I wondered what they were doing so silently? I heard them talking soon after Brock had yanked Ash out of the tent, but I didn't even notice their voices dying out. It was also getting very dark. They were probably just sitting out there, enjoying the night air or looking up at the stars. They did that a lot…and usually, I was there with them. Normally, I wouldn't have minded them sitting out there as long as they wanted, temporarily granting me the rare luxury of privacy. But not tonight.

It was getting late, and I wished they were in the tent with me. Talking with them would certainly help me relax as much as I possibly could, and I was eager to see what Brock could whip together as a quick meal. I was starving…and tired, too. I would be incredibly surprised if I slept tonight, but I wouldn't regret it, either. I didn't feel like being a zombie tomorrow—and geez, it's not helping the situation much for me to be using these words!

After a few minutes, I lifted my head from where I was resting it beside Togepi. Brock and Ash were still saying nothing, but now I wasn't even hearing them move. It was still out there—_too_ still. A chill ran through me again, and I shook my head mentally at the absurdity of it. It didn't matter, though—I knew what I wanted. I wanted Ash and Brock in the tent now.

"Guys?" I called out softly, my voice flowing sweetly.

There was no response. My stomach clenched.

"Guys? Come on in, now. Come in the tent."

Why weren't they answering me? _Why weren't they answering me!?_ My heart sped up again and I sat up. Balling my fists fearfully, I felt my lip quiver and my body tighten. This was not good…I didn't need more of this…

"Guys, cut it out!" I whimpered forcefully. "Please, stop this! I know you're out there! Don't do this to me, guys! Ash? Brock? C'mon, _stop!_"

They still weren't answering. I heard the continuous singing of crickets…and nothing else.

"GUYS!" I was begging now, gripping huge fistfuls of grass. "Please, this isn't funny! You're _scaring_ me!"

I was hesitant to go outside. It was the last thing I wanted to do. My thoughts were a mess, and I didn't know how to react. I knew this was a trick—a dirty, nasty one—but I still didn't feel like going out there and having them jump on me and give a heart attack. I didn't want to be scared like that. I just wanted them to start laughing right now and come in. I would still kill them, but at least it wouldn't cause me as much grief and terror. Besides, I didn't feel like going out there _period_…it was dark, and it was a cemetery, and I don't like that combination one bit. Especially when your evil friends are out there plotting against you…

"Please, answer me!" I yelled. I was beginning to cry now, praying for them to cut it out. This was really mean…I _knew_ I couldn't trust them!

I couldn't take it much longer. I grabbed the lantern and tore open the tent and into the night. As I figured, they weren't there. I didn't leave the tent; I merely stuck my head out nervously and extended my shaky arm out to light the area.

"Ash and Brock, I swear to God, don't do this to me!" I was going to try threatening them now, but to them, it would just be a big joke. I swept the lantern around to try to spot anything, but it was so dark and the lantern light was so weak that it hardly made a difference. The light reflected weakly off some shiny graves, and that positively paralyzed me in fear.

Ash and Brock were nowhere to be found. I was all alone…in a cemetery…at night. I knew they weren't gone, but I still didn't know where they were hiding. Even Pikachu was gone. They were doing an excellent job, I had to hand it to them. But this had gone way too far now. Even though I knew they had to be nearby, I still couldn't help feeling that there was some reality in this, that I was truly all by myself in a scenario only my nightmares would produce.

I felt stupid doing this, but I grabbed for a Pokéball. I didn't know who it was, but I didn't care. Even if it were Psyduck, at least I'd have some sort of companionship and _maybe_ defense. I just needed someone with me, and that couldn't be Togepi. I think I awoke him screaming at my idiotic boys, but I didn't feel like him getting hurt tonight. I had one too many problems on my hands as it was.

I shivered as a sound echoed above my head. It didn't take long for me to realize that it was just the breezes running though the leaves, but at this point I think I would have jumped if a pin dropped. Words couldn't explain how frightened I was. I wanted to shut my eyes and have it miraculously be morning, have this whole night and this whole event vanish. I didn't stop my tears from taking over me.

"Guys, please," I whimpered, stepping out of the tent and into the vast openness of the cemetery. I could barely see a thing, it was so dark. My legs trembled at each step I took into the soft ground. I swung the lantern around desperately, trying to find them, trying to see anything. If they had the other lantern, I'd be able to see that.

I froze. Tiny dots of lights shone out to me in all directions, flickering slightly in the deep dark. There were a lot of them, scattered in all directions, their warm, gloomy glow sparkling into my eyes. It took me a frightful moment to realize that they were only eternal lights, lit to continuously burn in honor of the beloved one they looked over. There had to be dozens of them, surrounding me. I choked back a gasp and held it in. I found myself staring at them, captivated by their gentle waver. For a moment, I felt myself calming, as if their flickers were mesmerizing me. They were…pretty, almost…

_"Come with us, Misty."_

My heart stopped.

_"It's nice out here, Misty. Come join our world, you'll like it."_

I shook. It was Brock and Ash. I could distinguish their voices through their raspy whispers, but it didn't make me calm at all. I was becoming immensely afraid. Where were they?

"Guys!" I shouted immediately, flipping around in circles to find them. All I saw was darkness and more darkness, the lantern light occasionally illuminating the tent and nearby gravestones. "Stop it! Where are you!?"

Silence for a moment. And then: _"Don't you wanna be with us, Misty?"_

_"It's so peaceful here."_

_"We even have a place for you to stay. A nice, warm _mausoleum_."_

_"All for you, Misty."_

"Stop it!" I demanded in a high-pitched, frightened screech. "Guys, shut up! Where are you!? Stop doing this to me!"

By this point, I think I was ready to wet myself. I was so scared that my mind was a blur. But as petrified as I was, I was becoming angry. I heard them, but I didn't see them. I must have spun around twenty times, but stayed in the same place. I tried to follow their voices, and even through my terror, I figured out that Brock and Ash had to be in two different places, calling out to me. Where, though, was the question. I was even ready to run back into the tent, wait for them to finally stop acting like brats and come to their senses. And then I would murder them, slowly and painfully.

_"And at night, we have big parties, where we dance in the moonlight and eat brains."_

_That_ was Ash. There was no doubt about that, and I immediately twirled in the direction of his voice, furiously thrusting the lantern out to try to find him. In that moment, I saw a twitch of movement. My eyes widened, but I wasn't afraid anymore. I was infuriated, and became even more so as Ash popped out from behind a grave, his silhouette edged out by the light of the moon and my lantern. He let out a single, humorously frightened screech, and took off.

"Ash, I'm gonna kill you!" I raged, darting after him without delay. He just giggled heartily and boisterously, turning around often as he ran and throwing me what looked to be sarcastic expressions of terror. He was having a ball, and I was getting fed up.

He continued to laugh as I chased him, but it was his peril. This was not a laughing matter, at least not for me. I was careful to not crash into graves as I pursued him hungrily. Trying to keep my eyes on him and where he went in the dark and preventing me from fumbling over some stupid grave at the same time was a challenge. But I was determined. I had had enough of this vicious nonsense for tonight, and I was going to make sure Ash understood that _well_.

I couldn't believe how loud he was laughing! It made me clench my jaw shut so hard that it hurt, only opening to shoot out ear-ringing threats.

"Ash Ketchum, _get back here!_" I belted out, gasping for breath from the run. "I'm gonna pound your face so hard your mother's not going to recognize you!"

Like that was going to get him to surrender, but he should expect it by now. He simply flipped around momentarily to stick his tongue out at me with a boyish smile, then sped up. Soon, my light didn't reach far enough to keep him in range, and I lost sight of him.

"ASH!" I bellowed irately. "Where did you go!? Get back here so I can _kill_ you!"

My chase had come to an end so suddenly, so abruptly, I didn't have time to realize what was even occurring. In the course of mere seconds, I felt the side of my leg hit something, and I lost my footing right after. I managed a sharp yelp as I went airborne, instinctively throwing my hands out protectively in front of me. They struck something hard—very hard. Before I had a chance to wail over the unforeseen pain that assailed my fingers, my head bashed against the same object, and I fell to the ground with a hard thud that wracked my whole body.

My world went black for a moment. I couldn't see this happening, but I could feel it. My head began to spin and become heavy, pressure pushing at the sides of my skull forcefully. For a second, I felt as if I were going to faint. I remained motionless on the ground the way I had fallen, my throbbing head buried into the ground and my legs sprawled out behind me. A sharp ringing began to resound in my ears, causing my jaw to grind.

"Misty!"

"Oh my God, _Misty!_"

I could hear Brock and Ash running to me, but their calls were all muffled and echoing. It felt like forever before they reached me. Before they did, I was able to pull my legs underneath me and lift my ponderous head. My hand involuntarily flew to my forehead, where I had struck it against the grave. Opening my eyes weakly, I could see the headstone I had hit, lit up by the lantern which I had tossed a few feet aside. It was blurry and multiplying before me. Groaning, I sat up on my knees, my hand still pressed against my brow, right below my hairline. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt, but the pressure that I was feeling on it was making my stomach wrench in nausea.

"Misty, oh my God, Misty…"

All of sudden, I felt hands on me. They were warm and big, and it took no time to realize that they were Brock's. He turned me around so that I was now sitting down the right way, and I looked up, squinting. Before me were Ash and Brock, but it took a few seconds before they came into full focus. When they did, I saw that their eyes were wide, their mouths dropped open in alarm.

"Misty!" Brock cried, grabbing my shoulders and staring into my eyes. He was giving me the most awful look of fear and I shivered.

"Oh no!" Ash's hands flew to his mouth, and he began to shake his head violently. He crouched down to me, extending his hand out to brush my shoulder. His voice shook as he spoke. "No, no…Misty. Are you okay?"

"Misty, are you all right!?" Brock asked me furiously, grabbing my chin so that I would look directly in his face. He gripped me hard, holding me up.

I couldn't speak. My head flopped about my shoulders, which I was trying desperately to support with my hand. I was getting very dizzy, and very scared. What was happening to me? I knew I was hurt, but only until Brock pulled my hand away, and he and Ash gasped, did I know how seriously.

"Oh my God!" Ash cried horribly, and I witnessed the whites of his eyes flare. He was cringing so ghastly that my heart leapt in my chest. It looked like he was ready to scream.

"Wha—wha—whaz the matter?" I stuttered, feeling a new fear rise in me.

"Calm down, Misty, calm down!" Brock shouted at me, stunning me as he suddenly flattened his palm against my forehead, right where I had had mine. Only he was pressing so hard that it made my head throb even more than it was. He quickly turned to Ash.

"Go back to the tent!" he spat out to him. "Hurry, get some clean cloths and water! _Now!_"

Ash shakily nodded, breathing coarsely. Stumbling, he turned around and shot towards the direction of the tent.

"Brock?" I stammered, my voice high-pitched with fright and worry. "What happened? What's the matter!?"

"Shhh, shhh," he hushed me, helping me to my feet. I wobbled, almost fell, but Brock held onto me tightly. "It's okay, it's okay. _Shhh_."

I didn't want him to tell me to shush. I was afraid. I wanted him to tell me what had happened, how hurt I was. From his tone, I could tell it wasn't good, and I panicked. My legs were barely propping me up, but Brock escorted me back to the tent with his strong arm around my shoulder. I could hear him breathing nervously, and he even mumbled some words under his breath, which I didn't catch.

"B-brock?"

"You're going to be okay," he tried to reassure me, but the way his voice was shaking, it was not doing the trick at all. "Don't worry, Misty, you'll be fine."

As we walked, his hand unexpectedly slid off my forehead, spreading with it a wetness. Wetness? What was wet? Surely it couldn't be sweat—

It was blood. The realization hit me so hard that I nearly toppled over, bringing Brock along with me. He yelped, but grabbed me underneath my arms and hoisted me up. I was bleeding!? Brock's hand didn't hesitate in returning to the area, and he pressed hard into me again.

"Brock? Am I bleeding?" I cried out worriedly. "Am I?"

"Yes," he replied after a few hesitant seconds.

"Oh no…"

"No, but it's okay. You're gonna be fine. Don't worry."

How could I _not_ worry? I had just smashed my head on a tombstone, which felt like it was going to explode from the pressure, and now I was bleeding. To me, that didn't sound good _at all_. Suddenly, everything became a blur—my surroundings, my feelings, my thoughts. The short trip back to the tent felt like forever, and with the darkness and my condition I could barely recognize it. Brock was silently whispering to me the whole time, squeezing my side affectionately and his other hand jammed against my bleeding head.

When we reached the tent, Brock got on his knees and helped me in. As soon as I lowered from standing, I felt queasy and unsteady. It was better once I was on my knees, and I crawled in, Brock right beside me, his hand never leaving my head. I could feel the blood like crazy now; his hand was slipping all over the place. It was really yucky and sticky, and the nauseous feeling grew. Of all things now, I didn't want to throw up.

Ash was in the tent, his hands full of pieces of cloth, most likely bits of our old clothing that had torn and become unusable in the course of our journey. Some were really rotten looking, but Brock didn't seem to care. He pushed Ash aside, and when Ash saw me, his eyes widened. He was gawking in disbelief, in fear. Pikachu was right beside him, but I didn't see what he was doing. I only caught glimpses of his ears. Where was Togepi…?

"Here now, Misty, lie down," Brock told me. He was beginning to sound more collected, gentler, but I could still tell he was utterly distressed. He helped me lie down, thrusting my sleeping bag and another under my head as a pillow. As soon as my head was down, the pressure sky-rocketed. It felt horrible, but at least I was off my feet and not as nauseous anymore.

"Where's Togepi?" I asked frantically, trying to get up. Brock pushed me down again, while Ash gently picked him up, showing me that he was okay. Poor little guy, he looked shocked when he saw me. I was relieved when Ash set him down so that he didn't have to see my beat-up self. Just as long as I knew he was fine, I was fine.

I looked up at Ash and Brock as they gazed down upon me, their distraught expressions disturbing me. It was even worse when Brock brushed his sweaty brow with the back of his hand, the same hand he had used to block my blood-flow. His palm was smeared with bright red, shining in the dim light. My stomach lurched, and my eyes wandered all over his body. The sides of his green vest were stained red as well here and there, and I could see some smudges of it up and down his arms. Oh my God, how much was I bleeding?!

I lifted my own hands, and nearly fainted when I saw them covered in blood. Everywhere I looked there was blood, my own precious liquid all over the place. I panicked.

"Okay, okay," Brock said shakily, turning to Ash. "Give me one of those cloths! Are they clean?"

"I…I think so," Ash replied, handing Brock the top one.

Brock grabbed it fiercely and folded it, shaking the whole time. Ash watched intently as he placed it over my forehead, pressing down. He winced as he did, making sure it was secure.

"Brock…" I muttered.

"Shh, it's okay," he told me again. "Just don't move, Misty. Okay? Can you hold still for me?"

His tone was so sweet, so flowing, so full of concern. I tried to nod, but my head just pulsated. I grimaced, baring my teeth.

"No, no, don't move!" he said, holding me down softly. He motioned to Ash. "Come here. Hold this down on her head! We have to stop the blood!"

"Okay," Ash replied, crawling over to me. His shadow fell over me as he reached over, exerting his force down on my forehead. The pain that was not there previously was now making its appearance; not only did my head throb, but it stung. I just wished I could see what I looked like, how bad I really was.

"How bad is it?" I asked, my eyes flying to Brock. He was wiping his hands on one of the cloths, turning it from a clean white to a light crimson. He looked down at me, taking deep breaths.

"You're bleeding a lot," he informed me, swallowing. "I…I don't know how bad it is, but for now, we just have to stop the bleeding. We have to stop it…"

Brock trailed off there, spinning around and grabbing for his pack. He began rummaging through it hastily. I turned from him and looked up at Ash. He gave me a weak, yet gentle, smile as our eyes met. I didn't smile back immediately, but I eventually did. I witnessed his eyes glisten over, about ready to cry. He shut them hard, glancing over at Brock.

"Brock, what are you doing?" Ash asked him inaudibly.

Brock didn't reply, but returned a moment later. He held a flashlight in his hand, and very cautiously, he took hold of my face. Switching on the flashlight, he lifted my head up.

"Look into the light, okay, Misty?" he asked. I did, squinting as the beam glared into my eyes. I balled my fists as my head pulsed, feeling them stick together from the drying blood.

He looked relieved as he rose, but then shot his attention towards me again. "How are you feeling? Does it hurt a lot? Your head?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I can feel a—a headache coming on…I guess."

"Well, your eyes are responding to the light," he told me, "but I don't know if that means anything…good."

Oh God…

"What do you mean?" I tried to lift myself up, but Brock restrained me. He looked hesitant before answering.

"You…you banged yourself up pretty good," he disclosed, exchanging a look with Ash. He wiped his forehead again, utterly a nervous wreck. I didn't like to see Brock this way. It was making me more scared, since Brock was usually calm and collected. He knew what to do, I trusted him on that, but seeing him worry like this was not reassuring.

"I just…I don't know how bad it is, though," he admitted. He reached over and pulled the cloth away, twitching as he did. When he lifted it before my eyes, I could see that it had turned a deep brick red, a color sickening to my stomach. A chill shot through me. Brock quickly grabbed another clean cloth from the pile and folding it the same, placing it back on my wound.

"Hold it," he told Ash, and he did. "Misty, you have to tell me, do you feel tired?"

"A little," I said. "But I was tired before."

"Do you feel even more tired now? Like you're just gonna conk out at any second?"

I didn't really know. My head still felt heavy, and each time I blinked it felt like my eyelids weighed a ton. I guess that meant yes, and that's what I answered.

"Okay, listen to me, Misty," Brock said, hovering over me. I could feel his hot, nervous breath on my face. "Whatever you do, don't close your eyes, and don't rest, okay? I know that sounds bad, but seriously. I…I don't know yet, but you might have a concussion, and we have to make sure you don't lose consciousness or something."

Everything was rapidly starting to sound worse. I couldn't take it. Something like this had never happened to me before, and as I much as I didn't want to, I couldn't help but keep in mind where we were, how we were shut out from the world with no aid nearby. But I had to stay calm…Brock…Brock was in charge now. And knowing him, he probably could handle this much better than I would if the roles were reversed.

"What are we gonna do, Brock?" Ash asked him, his fingers squeezing into the cloth on my forehead. I stared up at him as he spoke, watching the same face that had teased me and taunted me sag worriedly. He didn't look any better than Brock. I blinked back tears.

"Okay," Brock replied, holding his face in his hands. He was thinking. But I didn't want him to think. I wanted him to _know_ what to do. Despite Ash and Brock's appearances, nothing compared to what I was experiencing. Suddenly his head rose, and he took a deep breath with his eyes shut.

"We're gonna have to get help," he told us morosely. "Ash…um, oh geez. Look, I'm gonna go out and see if I can find anyone, or do anything. You…I want you to stay with Misty. Someone has to be here. Okay?"

"Okay," Ash nodded.

Brock thought for a moment more. "Ash, give me Noctowl's Pokéball."

Ash lifted his jacket and broke a Pokéball off his belt, handing it to Brock. "Do you need anyone else? What do you have in mind?"

"If we're the only ones around here, we need to send word out. Can I bring Pikachu along?"

"Sure," Ash said, giving Pikachu a little scoot with his hand to join Brock. "Go help Brock, okay, Pikachu? Misty needs you."

"Pika," he replied gently.

"I'm gonna take the other lantern and the flashlight. Is the lantern okay in here? Is it hurting your eyes, Misty?"

"No, it's fine," I answered back, barely above a whisper.

Brock nodded, lifting the sides of the tent. "I'll be back as soon as possible, hopefully with help. I'm going to go around the whole graveyard if I need to, so just sit here and don't go anywhere. Ash, stay with her, change the bandage when she needs it. And Misty—" He gave me a warm, coquettish grin. "Just stay awake, okay, girl? You'll be fine."

"You be careful, too," I told him in farewell, smiling. The last thing I needed was for Brock to get hurt tonight. Then, I didn't know what we would do.

"I will," he smiled. "Stay here." He left the tent with Pikachu, and Ash and I listened silently as he walked away, the grasses crunching under his feet. I hoped he found help soon. Oh God, I really did.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

This chapter is all for Dragoness . . . _Happy Birthday!_ Sorry it's a tad late! --;; Heehee! Hope you had a lovely day! :sends Dragoness a bunch of Ash birthday gifts: Whoah-oh!!

Eeek…well, the story's still scary, but in a completely different way now! I dunno, but when my brother got hurt like this I was pretty darn scared! And yes, I know, I know, there was a _hint_ of gymshipping in here…don't worry, it's full blown AAML all the way from here on! I figure a little BAMR once in a while is harmless, no? Brock's just looking after Misty, that's all. So don't rant about that in the reviews! LOL You'll be drooling by the time I'm done with this, or your money back!

OMG…did anyone see "Rose Red"? Whoah-oh! That was spooky, wasn't it? Heehee! That was some spook house, and them ghosts were _awesome_. Stephen King has once again given me the sleepless nights I love and crave! LOL

Thanks to all you guys who reviewed! You guys are so cool! Next part Friday!


	3. "Aren't You Scared, Misty?"

**Sleep Tight**

_by Spruceton Spook_

Chapter 3

"Aren't You Scared, Misty?"

There was somewhat of an odd silence that fell between Ash and me after Brock left. Ash just seemed to stare away, his eyes roaming about the tent as he sighed thoughtfully. I just lay there, watching him. I didn't feel like saying anything, and I wasn't going to unless he talked to me. I just breathed calmly and tried not to concentrate on my headache, but that was hard. And the worrying…well, you probably know how that was coming along.

After a few minutes, Ash finally looked down at me, and I in turn looked up at him. There was a problem, and we both knew it. Our eyes just locked together, and soon it wore Ash down. He glanced down and shook his head slowly.

"Misty, I'm sorry this had to happen," he said glumly. "It's all my fault…I'm so sorry."

My eyes wandered. I didn't know exactly how to take it, seeing as how Ash had already apologized to me once that night after doing something he promised he wouldn't repeat. But his apology floated around in my messed-up head, and I needed to reply the way I truly felt.

"It's okay, Ash. It's all right." My voice was very low and dull.

"No, it's not all right," he disputed. "That was all my idea. It wasn't Brock's. I mean, look at what happened. I break my promise, and now…now this." He hung his head guiltily. "I should have been the one to get hurt, not you."

His voice was so sincere, so repentant. I cocked my head gently as much as I could.

"Accidents happen, Ash," I answered delicately. "It's okay. I shouldn't have chased you, anyway."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have _run_," he continued, trying to one-up me in the mistakes we had both made. "I shouldn't have done that whole thing _period_. I'm such an idiot."

"No, you're not," I said sadly. I felt sorry for him—I truly did. He does stupid things, but he never means for anyone to get hurt. It was all a horrible, unexpected accident, and I wanted him to know that. "You didn't know something like this was going to happen. You were just having fun. Even when I told you to stop."

A reluctant, bashful grin pried at his lips, which he tried to bite away. "See? It is my fault. I don't listen."

I smiled. "Well, maybe you should start," I suggested rather whimsically.

He chuckled softly. "Maybe I should. You can kill me when you get better."

"Nah, that's okay," I smiled.

"No, you should!" he objected. "I'm a moron, I deserve it. You can do whatever you like, okay? You can even smash my head into a gravestone if you want."

I rolled my eyes. "Ash, we already have _me_ to deal with!" I laughed, which he did right after. "If you get hurt, I think Brock's gonna leave us for good."

Ash nodded, but looked thoughtful. "Wonder how he knows how to do all this? He's very…what's the word?"

"Knowledgeable?" I filled in, and he nodded affirmatively. "He's not a dumb guy, Brock. Besides, with all those brothers and sisters he has, he probably knows how to handle a lot more stuff than we know of."

"Probably."

His face became serious, and he began to peel the sticky cloth from my forehead. My stomach flip-flopped again, not ready to see the amount of blood I had lost since the last bandage came off. Surprisingly, Ash let the cloth back down on my forehead, and placed his hand back over it.

"Am I still bleeding a lot?" I whimpered.

Ash half-shrugged, both with his shoulders and face. "I don't know. It might be stopping. The bandage isn't getting any more soaked."

"How red is it?"

"Really red," Ash replied hesitantly, inspecting it constantly. "But I really think it _is_ stopping."

I nodded, feeling the cloth go back and forth slightly against my forehead. It stung a lot, and I groaned. I made a note not to nod again. It wasn't worth the pain.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Ash asked me, giving me a very intent look.

"Yeah," I replied. "It didn't at first, but it does now. It stings a lot."

"Well, you gashed your head open. It's gonna sting."

"Ash, what does it look like? How bad is it, _really?_"

"What, the cut?"

"Yeah."

Ash's fingers wiggled nervously as he pulled the cloth up. He grimaced as his eyes examined my forehead, which wasn't very comforting to me. His answer was weird, though.

"Doesn't look like much of anything, Misty."

I gave him a face. "What do you mean it doesn't look like anything? It has to look like _something_!"

"You got…I dunno, it's like a big bump on your forehead," Ash mumbled. "It doesn't look cut or anything, but it's hard to tell with all the dried-up blood."

Ewww. Thank you, Ash. I was hoping for him to tell me that there was a huge scratch there or something. I honestly couldn't picture what he was telling me in my mind. Where could all this blood be possibly coming from if there was nothing there but a bump?

"It has to be coming from _somewhere_," I moaned agitatedly.

Ash didn't look like he knew, so I wasn't going to badger him. As long as the blood was stopping, that's all I cared about.

"I guess you've never hurt yourself like this before, huh, Misty?" Ash asked me quietly.

"No," I replied. "I mean, I've never bled this much before, or hit my head, if that's what you mean."

"Yeah," Ash nodded, "that's what I mean. I know how you feel, though. Cracked my head open a couple times myself."

"Ooh, surprise surprise," I said sarcastically, giggling. I could have told him that easily, just by knowing the crazy boy. You have no idea how many Band-Aids and gauze we've gone through, or how many days Ash has spent limping about or whining. Accidents seem to find him, which made me reconsider what he had said a moment ago about how he should have been the one to get hurt. I couldn't believe it was me, after all. I pulled an Ash, I guess. Kid's rubbing off on me.

Ash laughed at that, too, shrugging helplessly. "Yeah, it wasn't that great. Though I never hit my head on a gravestone for what I know."

I smiled broadly, nuzzling my head into the sleeping bag pillow. "I have to hear _these_," I insisted.

"What? My hospital stories?"

"I need some sort of entertainment," I chirped. "These ought to do the trick." Hey, I needed something to take my mind away from the pain. All Ash's pathetic little stories and accounts ever seemed to do was make me laugh, so I figured this was my best bet. Maybe Brock would be back before we knew it. I couldn't bear this waiting any longer. I decided to block the fact that my head was smarting sharply, and focused my attention towards Ash.

Thankfully, Ash accepted my suggestion. "Like which ones? Every time I bled?"

I sighed deeply. "I don't want to be here _all night_, Ash!" I replied, groaning. I decided I needed to narrow it down a bit, so I randomly requested, "I don't know. Did you ever break anything?"

"Did I ever break anything!" Ash retorted, throwing it away with a wave of his hand as if what I had asked was utterly ridiculous.

"Yeah! Did you?"

"Well…" he said, cringing. "Heh, yeah, but nothing serious. I broke my finger once."

"Well, _everyone_ breaks their finger," I mumbled. "Even I thought I broke my finger once!"

"Oh yeah, how was that?" Ash asked.

"I dove into my pool and hit my hand on the bottom," I relayed. "It hurt _so _bad, but turns out it was only jammed—hey wait! I asked for _your_ stories, not mine!"

Ash started to laugh boisterously, so much that he fell onto his back and unintentionally kicked his feet up. Where the heck does he get his energy from? I apathetically just swatted them away. After all, I didn't need him kicking me in the face to boot. He knelt upright, rubbing his eyes as they teared.

"So, why doesn't breaking a finger count?" he asked, returning his hand to my head. "It's a _bone_, and it _broke_."

"I mean something big, like a leg or arm," I replied, vexed humorously. "I want a juicy story."

"A juicy story, huh?" Ash asked, cocking an eyebrow. He pondered for a moment. "Well, this might not be juicy, but I think it's pretty funny."

I grinned madly. "Ooh, ooh, what happened?"

Ash licked his lips. "Actually, it's kinda funny how you mentioned how you _thought_ you broke something, 'cause this is the same thing."

"What did you think you broke?"

"My arm," Ash answered.

"And how did you do that?"

Ash sweatdropped, giving me a prudent smile. "I jumped out my window."

My eyes must have practically bugged out of my head, because I could _feel _it. They even hurt afterwards, but I hardly cared. What Ash had just told me sounded so unbelievable, so preposterous, he had to have been lying! But upon seeing my quite obvious facial expression, Ash nodded slowly, confirming it was true.

"H-h-how…_what_!?" I gasped. The state I was in escaped me, and I shot up without a second thought from the shock. He simply pushed me back down again and smiled.

"What do you mean you _jumped out your window!?_ Your _bedroom_ window?"

He nodded, blinking calmly.

"Your _second-story_ bedroom window?"

Once again, he nodded, finding it difficult to hold back his grin and a laugh.

"Well, I didn't _exactly _jump out," he admitted. "I fell out. I made a rope with my sheets, you know, like they do on TV and stuff? But my hands slipped and I fell when I was halfway out."

I was speechless at that, my mouth opening and closing as I struggled to find what to say. "Oh my God!" I exclaimed. "Why the heck did you do that!?"

"Because my mom sent me to my room and I didn't want to be there," he answered, folding his arms in front of him with a playful huff. He watched me expectantly, just waiting for me to reply to that one, almost like he knew what I was going to say.

"You've got to be insane!" I satisfied him, literally belting it out. "That's the reason why? Ash, you are such a _moron_!" I was surprised my head didn't pound from that. How…how come?

"No, I'm not!" Ash protested, his voice lowering to a muffled pout. "Mom was being unfair! All I did was accidentally dent her car door with a baseball bat while I was playing with Gary. I mean, it was an accident and I was really sorry, but she was too busy yelling at me and whupping me that she didn't even let me apologize and tell her how sorry I was! I was so mad at her, and I wasn't going to let her keep me in my room!"

He ended gruffly, trying to frown to emphasize his annoyance.

"Same old Ash," I sighed. He dodged my hand as it went to unsuccessfully pat his head. "Guess you didn't just get your stubbornness overnight, huh?"

"Well, maybe I was being stubborn, but I wasn't going to accept that!" he replied haughtily. "Besides, I wasn't thinking right. I was mad and upset. I was planning on running away, but…heh, I didn't get too far. I fell off my little rope and landed on my arm, and it hurt _soooo_ much. Thought it was broken, but it wasn't. It was just bruised really bad. I couldn't move it for days."

"Well, that was an intelligent stunt you pulled," I said casually. It came so easily out of my mouth, not like the way it was hurting to speak when I first entered the tent. I could barely feel the pressure anymore, and to me, it was ecstasy. I was still aware of how bad it was, however, especially after I felt Ash's hand lift from my head. Immediately, a blast of cold air hit my forehead and it smarted in response, lacking the comforting warmth that Ash had provided. Maybe that was doing the trick…

Ash didn't reply to my resolution, pulling the bandage off my head suddenly. I saw the red cloth as he tossed it aside, its gruesome look bringing me back to reality. I told him I wanted to hear stories, not change my disgusting bandage! I was about to shout at him until I noticed him grabbing another cloth delicately. He took his canteen and splashed it with water, then squeezed it out. I watched it all conscientiously, not saying a word, and my look remained as Ash brought it to my head.

The water had been cold, and I shivered the first time it touched my wound. I was expecting Ash to just glob it over my head, and then I'd have to deal with it steaming annoyingly down my face. However, instead he held it so that it was not sagging or dripping over me, and began to wipe ever so gently at the sticky blood on my face, washing it away.

He looked so alert, so cautious as he did it. It was amazing how he had gone from laughing like a maniac to being so attentive and serious. For a moment, I wondered what I was doing trusting myself in the presence of a kid who I'd just discovered plummeted out of his house on his own will. But what he was doing made my body relax, minus the sharp chill that ran up my back each time his fingers brushed against my skin.

The cloth glided smoothly over my forehead, and Ash was obviously avoiding my cut. He turned the bandage over a few times for a clean side, bringing it up to my hairline and then down my temples.

"There ya go," he said tenderly, taking the cloth away. "I got rid of all the dried-up blood. Does that feel better?"

I was stunned. I seriously could not believe that he had just done that for me! I managed a nod but nothing else, and Ash tossed the dirtied cloth aside and got a new one, which he folded like Brock had and placed over my head again.

"The bleeding isn't stopping, though," Ash said dejectedly, placing his pressure down again hastily. "But it didn't do much in that last second."

I finally got my tongue working. "I—I hope it stops bleeding. I'm worried."

"Don't be," Ash said confidently. "Brock's gonna find help, I know it. He's probably sending Noctowl out to get somebody. As long as I keep this down, it'll block it, and you should be fine."

I closed my eyes for a moment, picturing Brock walking around the cemetery, searching for help. He'd find someone; I had all hope in that. I just didn't know how long it would take. Aside from that, at least the waiting process wasn't as terrible as I had expected it. My head was still naturally bothering me, but I could feel myself loosening up gradually. I looked up at Ash again and smiled weakly. Even though I was yearning for another laugh from his stories, there was a question that prodded at me. I needed to get it off my chest, know the real deal.

"What do you think they're going to do for me?" I asked. "I mean, if it doesn't stop bleeding, does that mean…"

Ash nodded sadly, knowing exactly what I was referring to. "You might need stitches."

"Oh," I said, glancing away tensely. "I was hoping not."

"You've never gotten stitches before, Misty?"

"Didn't I just tell you I never got hurt like this before, Ash?" I responded wearily.

Ash reddened and scratched behind his head. "Oh yeah. Heh."

I shook my head. Sometimes his ignorance dumfounded me. It was annoying, but it was cute, too. Ash needed to work on using his brain a little more.

"How many times have you gotten stitches, Ash?" I asked perkily, preparing myself for another funny story. Already, I could feel my anxiety melting away. It felt wonderful.

Ash held up three fingers and grinned. It was a funky little grin, so mischievous almost. Like he was either proud of it or embarrassed. I really couldn't tell.

"Three times!?" I gasped, astonished. Why was I astonished? This was Ash we were talking about! Forget Ash's ignorance, have pity on me for my stupidity.

"Yup," Ash beamed wildly.

"What the heck did you do?" I was down-right curious. It was bad enough going through what I was experiencing, but how could anyone endure this more than once? Wait, wait, this is Ash, the kid who jumped out of his window…sorry.

"Well," he said, looking up. "The first time…let's see, I guess I was about four, and I slipped in the bathtub."

"Oh, owww!" I exclaimed, cringing at the thought. On second thought, maybe this was not what I wanted to hear at the moment, but he went on anyway.

Ash rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that was bad. But I don't really remember much of that. I can remember the emergency room, and my dad carrying me in there, but that's about it. Got them right here."

He pointed just above his left eyebrow. I didn't see anything there, so either it must not have been a large cut, or they did a very good job of patching it up. Nonetheless, I shook my head and gave him a silly smile, my cue for him to continue.

"Okay, and then I was about six or seven, I'm not sure," Ash said, "and I was jumping around my living room, you know, over the couches and everything? Just being an idiot, and Mom was telling me to stop, and of course I wasn't listening…"

It didn't take much to foretell the ending of this tale. I shut my eyes. "What did you crash into, Ash?"

"The patio door," Ash answered, clearly embarrassed. "Smashed it to _smithereens_."

I sighed, narrowing my eyes playfully at him. The way he was smiling, I would have said he was having a grand old time telling me these stories. It was making him sorta giddy, hyper almost. He bounced around on his knees, never kept still. His eyes were so bright in that dark tent, like they were the only things catching my attention. Ash was so happy, and in a way, it was making my happy, too. Hard to explain really, but I had to keep reminding myself of the predicament I was in. So strange…I was having _fun_. Should a person bleeding so intensely be having so much fun?

My resounding laughter proved that. I shouldn't have laughed afterwards, as it really wasn't something funny, but Ash didn't mind. He giggled, also, shutting his eyes as he did.

"So, how many stitches did you need for that?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "A lot. It hurt, too. It was in my hand, since that's what broke through the glass. I had to wear this bandage on my hand for the longest time, and I could barely move my fingers. But the stitches weren't that bad. What was bad was how _cold_ the house was that night. We had no door there, after all, and the people only came to fix it that next morning. We just had this blue tarp thing over it, blocking the wind. But it was still freezing—middle of winter, I guess I should add."

"That would help," I chuckled. "So you froze your family to death because you had to hop around on the couches. What else?"

"Well," he said, picking up my bandage and setting it down again, "this one I remember really well, because it only happened when I was nine. A few months before I went on my journey, in fact."

"What was that?"

Ash blushed. Why the heck was he blushing? I tilted my head, confused at the weird action. He wasn't answering.

"What? What?" I badgered, tugging at his shirt. "Tell me!"

"I tripped getting out of bed," he admitted.

I rolled my eyes. Dear Lord. "Ash! What do mean, you tripped!?"

"I tripped getting out of bed!" he shrugged, defending himself furiously. "I was getting up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, but I fell coming down my ladder and hit my head on my dresser. Right on the corner of it."

"You're kidding!" I exclaimed gently, giving him a shove. _Oww, oww_…my head hurt suddenly and I felt woozy, but I quickly shut it out. I was getting too into this, and the feeling faded as quickly as it had come. I shut out the strengthening feeling of weakness that had suddenly wracked me, ignoring it. Big, dark bubbles formed before my eyes, but I blinked them away. "How dumb can you be to fall out of your bed?"

"Really dumb, I guess," Ash replied, shoving me ever so lightly back. I shoved him, and he repeated. We did that continuously for a few seconds before I stopped it, gazing intently at him.

"That must have hurt," I said matter-of-factly. My tone was brewing with worried interest now as the image of the event flew to my head. Ash's bed is very high, and I know how much it can hurt to even stub your toe on a piece of furniture. Ash had been through a lot, and I never realized this. But it never came up in our conversations, so when else was I to find out?

"It did," he replied, his face sagging instantly. He looked away sadly, his eyes squinting slightly.

"I can remember that perfectly, though," he shook his head as if he couldn't believe it. He looked at me all of a sudden, eyeing my kind of funny. I drew back softly from the look, but realized that he was thinking, bringing himself back to that time. My eyes drooped and my head floated as he went on.

"It was almost like your case here," Ash said. "I didn't know I was hurt, but that's maybe because I was so tired. All of a sudden, I missed a step, and I went crashing down onto my dresser. My head hurt like _crazy_. I was lying on my floor for the longest time before my mom came in, because the crash I made must've been _really_ loud. And when…when I saw the look on her face and how scared she looked, I didn't know what to think."

His voice was low now, and I had to even strain to hear it. This was affecting him somehow, but I didn't know quite why. He squeezed my bandage, and his fingers absent-mindedly flicked my bangs around.

"It was so scary at the hospital," he continued, looking off and away. He recited his story slowly, like he was relaying everything that he could recall from the experience. "It was just the middle of the night, after all, but those places are so busy no matter what time it is. And I was sitting in the emergency waiting room with my mom, just like…just like we are here. She was holding me and rocking me and pressing some towel or something to my head. I was bleeding a lot, just like you. And I remember how it didn't hurt at first, but the longer we waited, the more pain I was beginning to feel. But the worst part of it was the waiting. I was just so scared. I was remembering my past experiences at the hospital, which were probably a blur like they are now, but it was a long time before they took us in, so it gave me a lot of time to worry and think."

I kept silent during his speech, my eyes blazing into him compassionately. How he kept going from being so excited to being so serious I couldn't believe. The intensity built up even more, and soon it seemed like he wasn't even speaking to me.

"I was so dazed and my head hurt so much, and they laid me out on this long table. It was bringing back all these memories of when I slipped in the bathtub, and I was getting all shaky. The nurse kept trying to calm me down, but I just couldn't. I guess because they didn't let Mom in or something, but what I was really scared about was the stitches, and how much they would hurt. I didn't remember what it was like because I was so young, and when I saw them coming at me with this long needle—"

Suddenly, he abruptly stopped, his eyes widening and shooting towards me. Realizing what he had just said, he cowered at once. He must have seen how my jaw had dropped, how I was gaping in rapt interest at his story.

"Oh my God, Misty!" he cried, clasping his hand over his mouth. He became fidgety. "I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to…_scare_ you…"

Scare me? Hardly! I smiled to show him that, shaking my head. "No, Ash, I'm not looking at you like that because…it—it's just because you became so serious all of a sudden!"

I grinned softly, and he gradually returned it, somewhat in relief.

"I was?" he asked. "I didn't…know I was. Really? But…I shouldn't have gone on like that! I don't want you to be afraid of getting stitches! Cause, really, I—I was exaggerating a bit. It's really not that bad and scary as I'm making it sound."

He reached out his other hand and grasped my shoulder, almost like he was begging for forgiveness for something he hadn't even done. I couldn't control my face as the affectionate smile took over it. Ash looked so worried at that point, so sorry—I…I wanted to hug him. If only it wouldn't _hurt_ so much…just to show him that he didn't have to worry, that what he had said wasn't affecting me the way he thought it had. It had affected me in one way, though. I tilted my head and took a deep breath, reaching my own hand over to hold his arm.

"Don't worry, Ash, it's all right," I told him gently. "What…what is it like to get stitches? Really, don't hesitate to tell me. I wanna know."

I just wanted to hear him talk, no matter what it was. Oddly, at this point, I felt it was the only thing keeping me sane, the only thing diminishing my worry. Whether I was bleeding to death or not, Ash was making it a heck of a lot better. My fears were slowly declining, and as they were, I felt my body relaxing, the pressure in my head drifting away.

He smiled wanly, shrugging. "I dunno…it's really not that bad. It hurts, but just a little bit. Like getting a needle. It just stings for a moment, and then it's all over. Only, it depends on how many stitches you get. I don't think you'll get a lot…I mean, people need to get a lot when they—like when I got my hand split open, but for you…it—it shouldn't be that bad. And…uh, then—then you wear this bandage on your head for a while, which you have to change a lot, but it's not that bad. You don't have to worry so much, Misty. Really, you don't."

We looked at each other for a couple of seconds, not saying a thing. I was thinking about what Ash was saying, and yeah, I had to admit, I was a little nervous about the whole ordeal. But not as much as I was before. If Ash could do it three times, certainly I'd be able to tolerate it once!

Ash took a sound breath and maneuvered himself so that he was sitting down now instead of kneeling. He picked my bandage up lightly, placed it down, and smiled at me. Only, it wasn't a happy type of smile now—it was very weak, full of concern. I narrowed my eyes confusingly at him.

"What?"

Ash looked down momentarily. "Nothing…it's just…I can't believe how well you're taking this."

"Huh? What do you mean, Ash?"

He bit at his lip. "I mean, when this kinda thing was happening to me, I was so worried. I was crying every time and everything, even when I fell out of my window. Well, I was crying _before_ that, but…you're not crying at all, or even worrying like you were before."

I tipped my head, my eyes arching gently, taking in the sight of his concerned, yet very curious, face. His eyes melted right into mine when he said it and as I stared at him afterwards. I knew what to say, but…I didn't know how to. It made perfect sense to me in my head, but when I tried to figure out how to explain what it really was, my mouth just hung open.

I decided to shrug instead. "I don't know," I uttered. It was a lot easier to say that.

Ash's eyes glistened. "It's just that I can't even imagine what you must be thinking, being out here and all…in the graveyard to boot! You've made it quite clear how spooked you are of them."

Oh dang…I had forgotten about that. I was about to sarcastically thank Ash for that, but he continued.

"If I were you, I'd—I'd be so _scared_," he said inaudibly. "Aren't you scared, Misty?"

"I—you mean, about my head or about the cemetery?" I chuckled, my voice choppy.

"Well…your head, I guess," Ash replied. "I just can't believe how much fun you're having. You're laughing and smiling…and when this happened to me, I was crying and I was scared and shaking. I mean, here you are, trapped in a cemetery with your head gushing out blood, and you're…I don't know, _happy_."

He was noticing the same thing I was feeling, and even I didn't really understand it. My thoughts were jumbled, but I tried hard to make my words just the opposite. "It's not that I'm happy, Ash, it's just that…" I looked up at him and smiled. "It's just that with Brock out there trying so hard to get help, and you staying here with me and taking care of my bandage…I guess I really have nothing to worry about."

I was satisfied with that, especially since it was all one hundred percent true. Each time I thought about Brock roaming around that scary cemetery all by himself, in the dark with only a weak, battery-powered lantern, I had to hand him credit. He was doing that all for me; he was worried. And Ash…part of me would have been surprised that he hadn't killed me yet, either by doing something stupid like knocking the tent over clumsily or tripping over me, or not taking care of my bandages as he done so fabulously, or just…just not keeping me such wonderful, pleasant company as he had. I had nothing to worry about. I had two boys who were so amazing, so special. Anyone who would do what they were doing deserved to be dubbed that.

Ash looked just as happy with my explanation. "Really, Misty?" he asked, his glossy, brown eyes flashing with modesty.

"Yeah," I replied. "You guys are so great. You have no idea."

Ash looked down, but his head shot up instantly as I went on.

"You especially, Ash," I smiled, giving his arm a gentle punch. "I'm thinking of hurting myself more often so that we could spend more time like this together! What happened tonight before I got hurt—I didn't like that. I don't like when we act that way to each other. But this…I like just sitting here talking with you, and hearing all your crazy stories. You probably have a lot more, don't you?"

Ash chuckled softly, nodding.

"I know what you mean, Ash," I proceeded. "It is a scary situation, and I am scared a little bit. But you made this last fifteen minutes so…_bearable_." I laughed and he did too, lowering his head again humbly.

"Well, _more_ than bearable. I'm having such a nice time with you, Ash. You're…a totally different person, and you're…well, you're helping me through this so well."

"Me?" Ash gasped quietly, surprised. I shivered happily as a blush streaked across his nose. "But Misty, if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even _be_ in this mess! I don't even know why you'd want to be with me."

I beamed. "There's no one else I think who would've done a better job than what you're doing tonight," I told him sincerely, watching the unassuming blush extend radically.

"But…I'm not helping, though!" Ash challenged, sounding a bit shameful.

I scowled, unable to comprehend what he had just said. "What are you talking about? Of course you're helping!"

Ash shrugged. "I'm just doing what Brock told me to do. Any person could have done that. When I was hurt, my mom…she helped me. She was so good in calming me, in telling me that everything was going to be okay. I swear, if she hadn't held me the way she did, or hummed and rocked me, I don't know how insane I would have been. And look at me! All I'm doing is telling you about all the times I ended up in the hospital! What kind of help is that?"

My jaw dropped as the shock of what he uttered seeped through me rapidly. He looked hurt over it, like he was totally unwilling to accept my thanks for doing what he had done so marvelously. Giving him a very gentle, appreciative look, I sighed.

"Ash, you don't know how much you're helping me!" I told him. "Look! I'm seriously hurt here, and I'm smiling and laughing with you, just like ya said! Don't you think I'd be scared if I just had someone here pressing down this cloth of my forehead and fretting? Just entirely concerned with what's happening?"

"I guess," Ash replied. "But I'm concerned, too! I'm worried about you, and I want Brock back soon! We need to get you help!"

My smile never went away. "But see, you're not constantly stressing over it, though, Ash!" I replied softly. "You might not be rocking me, or singing to me or whatever, but telling me all your stories and just talking with me is taking my mind away from the worry! And I think that's better than just blocking my blood."

I gave him a silly smile, wiggling my finger at him. "Brock's gonna be so proud of you!" I sang, then adding more earnestly, "And I'm proud of you, too."

I had Ash at that, and I was glad. I guess I didn't do such a bad job of explaining, and his timid grin told me that.

"Th-thanks, Misty," was all Ash could come up with. That was enough for me. He turned away for a moment, and I could tell by his look that he was still thinking of something. The blush was fading slightly, but he looked pleasingly content, getting the full zestful effect of my honest complement. I enjoyed watching him, feeling my own self-respect rise. I'm pleased I told him that…I wanted him to know.

"Just don't get any ideas of rocking me, Ash Ketchum!" I warned playfully, winking. He laughed and held out his hands defensively, shaking his head.

Suddenly, I didn't want to be lying down anymore. The enjoyment of speaking with Ash was beginning to take hold of me. It was my remedy, my pain-killer. I didn't want to do that on my back any longer. I groaned somewhat as I pushed myself up weakly on my hand, not realizing how tough it was going to be on me. My head instantly pounded, and the pain pressed strongly on all sides. I felt my arm shake intensely and my torso bend uncontrollably.

Ash wasn't too happy with me doing that. "No, no! Misty, lie down!" he told me worriedly, trying to push me back. "Brock said to stay down!"

I pushed his hand away with a gentle smile, then continued in my attempt to lift myself. "No, it's okay, Ash. I'm fine. I just…I just wanna sit up for a moment."

There was no use going against me on that, so Ash backed away. He watched me worriedly as I propped myself up, holding on to the bandage on my own. I pulled it off me, cringed at the sight, and sent it back to my head.

I gave Ash a wearied smile. "You know, Brock coming back is starting to sound _really _good."

Ash took a deep breath, glancing towards the tent's entrance. "I really hope he comes back soon. Noctowl can surely find _some_ help by now, I would think. Pikachu, too. He could easily slip through the bars of the fence."

"And why couldn't we do this _before_ I got hurt?" I said hotly. "When I _wanted _to get out of here?"

Ash cowered guiltily. "I don't know. Guess…it was just fun to see you act that way. Hey, how would you act if this graveyard was swarming with bugs?"

I sighed, but smiled otherwise. "Whatever, Ash. Ha ha."

"Why are you so scared about graveyards, anyway?" Ash asked, folding his arms around his knees.

I shrugged slightly. "I don't know. I've always been. They just scare me, that's all. I'm not fond of dead people."

Ash smiled. "You don't seem to be so scared, anymore," he told me, his brows arching.

"I have other things to be _more _scared about, Ash," I said airily, rolling my eyes. He just pulled his hat over his face, which I knocked off his head. He went to grab it, his black, bushy hair flouncing about his head, let free from the confines of the hat.

"Graveyards don't scare you at all, Ash?"

"Not really," Ash replied easily, plopping the hat back on his head again. "I think they're cool."

I groaned, wrinkling my face is playful disgust. "You're lying!"

"Lying!?"

"Yeah!" I retorted snobbishly, thrusting my nose into the air. "I bet you couldn't spend the night here all by yourself!"

He suddenly straightened himself, putting on that oh-so-famous fearless expression of strength and egotism…I loved that look.

"What are you talking about? Of course I could!"

"Oh, you could_ not_."

"Sure I could!" he replied, giving me a sly smile. "I'm not scared of this place! Pokémon Masters shouldn't afraid of anything like this!"

"Well, in that case, you must be horrified!" I giggled, half-expecting the frisky swat Ash directed towards me. My jaw ached from my perpetual smile.

"Ash?" I asked sweetly, as we reclined from the temporary ruckus that was probably no good for my head. I paused for a moment and gazed at him. Ash leaned over, waiting for me to continue. "Will you come into the emergency room for me?"

He looked confused and a little shocked. I altered my smile to a puppy-dog frown, lowering my voice to a jokingly pleading, yet totally honest, tone.

"Will you, Ash? Maybe…you know, you can talk me through it. Being the expert you are and all. Please?"

Ash giggled, his tiny voice ringing softly in my ears. I wanted him to laugh more, I…I liked hearing him laugh…it made my pain go away…

"Sure I will, Misty," he said without hesitation. "If you want me to, of course."

"Thanks," I said. "You're a pal, Ash, you know that?"

"I guess," he smiled, shrugging humbly.

With a feeling of calm, soothing pleasure spreading through my body, I reclined, hunching myself over. I pulled the bandage away again, felt the now familiar sting, and decided I didn't want to do that anymore. Not until Brock came back…with a doctor, or the night-watchman, or Officer Jenny—_somebody_. I yawned loudly. I was getting tired—very tired. In fact, my whole body was losing all its energy, as I had felt it doing for the last ten minutes. It wasn't bad at all…it felt better than the dizziness and nausea I had to deal with earlier. My eyes were weakening with the light, but I kept them open, remembering what Brock had said earlier. It was another reason I wanted someone there, and this problem to be cleared. I wanted to sleep tonight.

Ash seemed to be thinking the same thing. After I completed my vigorous yawn, one was sparked from him.

"Don't fall asleep on me, Ash," I teased.

"I won't," Ash replied. "Though I hope we get out of here soon. I won't be able to battle tomorrow if I get two hours of sleep."

"More worried about your badge than you are about me?" I exclaimed, playfully whimpering.

"Yup," he snickered.

I chuckled, lowering myself back to the ground as my arm started to bobble beneath me. Man, I was getting tired. Sitting up wasn't such a hot decision, either. I tried switching arms, but it wasn't helping much. They were just giving out underneath me. I finally succumbed to them, allowing myself to rest as I wanted. I settled my head back on the sleeping bag again, instantly feeling a rush of sleepiness sweep to my head. I blocked it, shaking my head rigidly to get rid of it, and it worked…some.

I shut my eyes for a moment, receiving a blissful reaction from my body upon doing so. It was such a rewarding relief, but I forced them open right after. I knew then that if I closed them any longer, they wouldn't open again. I'd fall asleep. I didn't realize how tired I actually was, the talks between Ash and me stimulating me enough to keep me aroused. The little weights that pulled at my eyelids were fighting me now—just because I had closed them that once!

I took a deep breath, pulling my knees up. It was a struggle. I couldn't believe the amount of energy I was lacking. I didn't pay much attention to it, though; I simply breathed deeply and a bit hard, keeping my drained arm clasped to my bandage.

"Misty? Are you okay?" Ash asked me, his face washed in concern. He nudged my hand away and replaced his over my wound.

"I'm fine, Ash," I replied, yawning again. God, I wanted to stop yawning! It was just making me more tired. "Just…a little tired."

"Well, you can't sleep!" Ash blurted. "Brock said you shouldn't!"

"Don't worry, don't worry," I sighed, soothing his sudden fears. "I'm not going to sleep." I snuggled my head into the sleeping bag, which wasn't very convincing to Ash, I had realized at that moment, but he remained silent for a moment.

"I—I know, Misty," he said softly, "but you look tired. I just don't want you falling asleep."

I looked away. "I don't want to, either," I admitted, wondering to myself how I could honestly keep awake any longer. I hadn't felt this sleepy in a long while, and that was quite understandable. My trauma was creeping up to me, and I shivered as I thought about it. "That's why…that's why I wish Brock would hurry up."

"Me, too," Ash said.

I didn't like when we stopped talking. It made me more conscientious of my situation, of how tired I was becoming. I licked my lips softly, widening my eyes to stretch them out a bit.

"You know," Ash said suddenly, "I'm not really serious about that badge thing. If I have to stay up all night with you, I will."

I turned to him, my eyes squinting. "You would?"

Ash smiled. "Of course. I can get a badge any day. I…I don't know how long we're gonna be here, or how long it's going to be at the hospital, but I'm gonna make sure you get through it. Kinda making it my duty."

I couldn't hold back the kind "awww" that slipped through my lips. My heart pounded at it, sending a very inviting rush through my veins, waking me up. Well, it did for a moment. "Ash…you will?"

"Sure I will," Ash replied. "Especially since I know how tough it is."

"Thanks, Ash," I said, a yawn escaping me again. "Man, I wish I would wake up."

Ash's face fell in concern. "Are you…are you really getting that tired, Misty?"

"Well, yeah," I answered. "I mean, aside from how light-headed I'm getting, being tired isn't helping."

"You're light-headed?" Ash gasped, eyes snapping open. "That…that isn't good."

I nodded glumly, realizing that myself. "I know. Even though we're having such a nice time, I _kinda _wish Brock would come back."

"Me, too," Ash agreed.

I took a deep breath, trying not to let my weariness increase. The worrying about Brock was not helping, and I truly was starting to shake from his prolonged absence. Surely he would have found someone by now, but if he wasn't back, it was obvious he didn't—which scared me even more. And even if Brock did come back, who said he'd come back with help? Would I be able to last the whole night like this?

"You know," Ash said, his eyes lowering, "we—we can talk like this any time you want. We don't need to have a nice time just because something like this forces us to."

I stared at him as he said this, but not once did his eyes cast upon me. Almost like he was avoiding it. Instead, he simply brushed away my loose hair, adjusting my bandage constantly. I wanted him to look at me, to see the expression I put on my face, the one of complete and utter gratification. The last few phrases that had come from his mouth were just so surprising, so startling…something I don't think he could have said more perfectly.

"Ash," I responded a second or two later, my tone wavering. "I would like that."

"You really like talking with me?"

"I always have," I told him. He smiled frailly, the smile he always displayed at times like these. The uncertain, embarrassed smile that signified he wasn't sure about how to respond. "I like being with you."

I don't know what got into me in that moment, how I completely ignored my nervousness, all my fears. I could easily have blamed my condition, or my constant demand for more relief, but this stemmed from something deeper. I gave Ash a friendly little shock as I used my last, dwindling remains of energy to lift my head and move it around to rest in his lap, settling comfortably between his folded knees.

Instantly, I felt Ash's hand detach from my head and his body recoil. I wasn't going to bring attention to it, partly since I had no idea why I was doing this myself. I simply rested my head in his lap and shut my eyes, giving him a gentle, harmless smile regardless.

We said nothing, but pretty soon Ash's hand returned to my forehead, and his tense muscles loosened. His legs were the worst, but the more time went on, the easier and more adjusted he became. He squeezed at my bandage again, the same one that had been on my head for the longest time. I could feel him staring down at my head, wondering what was going on in my crazy mind. But he said nothing of it. Either he was terrified or he didn't mind, but in any case, he went back to the normal routine.

"You shouldn't close your eyes, Misty," he whispered. His fingers gently brushed over my eyelids. "Please don't. I don't want you getting any more hurt."

"It's hard," I admitted, cracking them open a bit.

"Just open them," Ash commanded me softly. "Brock will be back soon."

"And what if he's not?" I croaked, opening them to look up at Ash's upside-down face. "I don't think I can stay awake all night…or survive, for that matter."

"Don't talk like that!" Ash exclaimed. His trembling hand found my temple, which he stroked shakily. "You'll be fine, Misty…maybe really weak, but fine! Honest, there's really no rush! Like I said, the last time they took so long before they took me into the emergency room! Almost like the time we've spent here."

"Well, that makes me feel a little better," I said, my words dragging drowsily. The 'better' came out rather haggardly to say the least. And Ash noticed that very well.

"Misty, no, wake up!" he said, his tone choppy. I forced my eyes open, shuddered as a sudden sting burned at my forehead. That was because Ash shook me.

"I'm up," I said. I took a deep breath, biting my tongue to put some sort of stimulant into me. It just made my head ache, and I was getting sick of it. Where was Brock?

Ash's tenseness was not something that was helping. His uneasy hand continued to roam about my face and shoulders, as he wasn't really sure where to place it. I didn't want to put him through so much anxiety, the poor, sweet kid, but it made me feel so much better. If it was going to take a moment like this for us to talk nicely, then why couldn't it go…further? Like I had always wanted it to? Like I had always thought would take forever, a time that was merely a fantasy of mine, a silly dream?

I lifted my worn hand to his, directing to my forehead, right beside his other hand. I glanced at him and smiled as to tell him that that was where I wanted it to be. His face was flushed slightly, and he nodded, gulping softly. My head eased off again, drifting into the beckoning lair of slumber. The amazing contentment of that feeling, along with the presence of Ash's warm hands soothing my sweaty, battered forehead combined to create the most desirable feeling within me. If only I could have enjoyed both.

"Eyes open, Misty," Ash said, this time a bit of demand in his voice. I complied, and he smiled when our eyes locked. "That's it."

I pursed my lips, continuing to stare up at him. If I didn't, I knew I'd close my eyes again. The time lagged, the minutes feeling like hours. I wasn't in pain anymore, but I was certainly drained. Ash knew this, but he wasn't going to give up on me. He mumbled that forcefully when he told me to wake up moments later, giving my face a gentle slap. I just grinned and reached up to playfully slap him back. It just resulted in my fingers grazing across his skin, which was very soft and warm. They tingled at the touch, and I wished my hand hadn't had dropped so quickly afterwards, but I couldn't overpower my condition any longer.

"Ash?" I asked, my voice floating tiredly.

"Yeah, Misty?"

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

I turned my head over to where I spotted Togepi, who had fallen asleep nearly half-an-hour ago. Lucky baby.

"Make sure Togepi is safe when we get out of here," I said. "I…just in case I'm too tired to realize it."

Ash gave me a colossal smile. "You got it, Misty."

"Thanks, Ash," I whispered in reply. "Thanks for doing this all for me."

"Why wouldn't I?" Ash responded, brushing my hair away.

"I dunno," I muttered despicably. "Because I'm so mean to you?"

He chuckled. "You're not mean to me, Misty."

"Yes, I am," I contradicted depressively.

"No, you're not!" he objected once again. "You just set me straight, that's all. Trust me, absolutely no hard feelings."

I was more than happy to hear that from him. In fact, I was overjoyed at the sound. As if another of my burdens had been blown away with the wind, I clenched my fists in solace. My attitude towards Ash often worried me, such as the episode earlier this evening. I always wondered what Ash thought of those occasions, if he resented them, drew him further away from me. I sometimes can't control how I react, that's just my character. But, it was also in my character to…hide things I truly want to show…

My eyes were closing again. I could feel them defeating me, battling against my will. Only, it was different this time, enough to make me tremble. It was no use anymore, and I knew that. I could easily compare it to one of those nights that you've just been up way too long, perhaps after a tiring, never-ending day, when the sound of sleep is just music to your ears. When you know that you can't even stay awake for possibly half-an-hour more, if that's even stretching it. I wanted to fight it, I _needed_ to fight it. But it was no use…I couldn't stay awake much longer…

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Ahh, yes, but don't we all love little-Ash stories? Heehee!

That's all I have to say for today . . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

J/K!! **Happy Birthday Llyxius!** Hope you had a wonderful day and enjoyed your birthday chapter! And yes, you know me too well . . . though if I had raised Ash, he probably wouldn't have turned out as perfect and cute as he is today! Mrs. K's the best for that! Hehe! But creating his childhood is just as fun! :sends even more presents: Man, you birthday people are emptying my wallet!

See ya next Friday guys!! And thanks again for the reviews!!


	4. "Are You Feeling All Right, Uh . . .?"

**Sleep Tight**

_by Spruceton Spook_

Chapter 4

"Are You Feeling All Right, Uh . . .?"

"Misty, no!" Ash shouted at me, rattling his knees to stir my head. "C'mon, just a little while longer!"

"I…can't, Ash," I struggled, wincing as the comprehension that I wasn't in control of my own body anymore invaded me. I could feel my head float, my body space out, everything within me just shut off. No, I couldn't go to sleep…why couldn't I go against it? Why was it getting harder? What if…

"Ash! Misty!"

The voice of an angel—Brock's voice. For a moment, I even thought I had already seeped into a dream, as he sounded as if he were miles away, echoing in my subconscious. But it wasn't a dream, and Ash's excited lurch beneath me sent that shock through me rapidly.

"Brock!?" Ash exclaimed loudly, trying to keep as steady as he possibly could. My eyes shot open anyway, darting shakily to the entrance of the tent. It was very fuzzy, and it seemed to double, twist and wind before me. I squinted furiously, trying to make out the blurry image that thrust itself through the tent. The colors agreed with my expectations, and despite my lousy focus, I knew it was Brock. The distinct "pika!" that accompanied his arrival posed no question in my mind.

"I'm here, I'm back," he said, his tone unchanged since he left us. It was still heavily distraught and panicky. He came into clearer view as he approached me, stooping down and delicately outstretching his hand to my head. I gave him a weak, yet undeniably warm, smile.

"Hey, Misty," he said tenderly, his one hand stroking my forehead, the other lifting my bandage to check on the damage. "Are you feeling all right?"

"She's very tired, Brock," Ash answered him for me. Brock's attention shot to Ash. "She's having a hard time keeping awake."

Brock nodded, biting his lip as he looked back down at me. "Well, you don't have to worry any more, Misty. We're getting out of here, okay? We're going to get you to some help right away."

"Thank God," I replied, the rapture of his perfect words flooding me. "We—we're getting out of here?"

Brock beamed, just as Ash spoke up.

"How, Brock? Who'd you find?"

Brock's head lowered, shaking it almost miserably. He buried it in his hand. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you…"

"Is this it?"

"I can't tell, it's too dark!"

"Why'd he have ta be so speedy? How are we supposed ta follow if he's so fast?"

Oh no. Those voices…_this_ had to be dream. One really crazy, wacky dream. Surely, Brock hadn't brought back…

The sides of the tent rustled, and three hazy, yet very familiar faces appeared in the entrance, their heads held high and firmly.

"Prepare for trouble, we're coming to you under the light of the moon!"

"Make that double, looks like someone's been chasing about the tombs of doom."

"SHUT UP!" Brock yelled suddenly, his booming, impatient tone making me flinch. "I've already heard enough of that tonight!"

"Team Rocket!?" Ash growled horridly, his reeling legs bobbling my head uncomfortably. That, and the likewise shock I was going through myself. "Brock, you brought _Team Rocket_ here!?"

"Ash, listen," Brock began to explain.

"Hey!" Jessie spat coldly at him, folding her arms. "That's the thanks we get for coming to help?"

James turned his head away gruffly. "Maybe we should just leave. How insulting!"

Ash didn't take what Team Rocket was saying, though at this point I really wished he had. Despite Brock returning with the three individuals I'd least expected, I was just thrilled to see someone else there who could help us out. I cringed as Ash's ear-ringing objections poured from his lips.

"Out of all people, this is who you find?" I glanced up to watch him shoot a venomous glare at the infamous trio.

"Ash, they're here to help us," Brock tried to reassure him, reaching his arms out to hold him back.

"How do you know that?" Ash snarled. I could feel each statement he was proclaiming as his body tightened at each one.

"Ash…" I tried to address, my voice wavering. Ash threw me a glance, which meant he'd heard me, but shot daggers straight at Team Rocket again.

"Ash, would you just listen?" Brock begged insanely. "Look, they followed us here, but they were hiding out on the other side of the cemetery. I'm glad I ran into them, because all I did was tell them the situation, and they're willing to help us out!" He, nevertheless, gave Team Rocket an antagonistic look. "_After_ trying to steal Pikachu."

"That's not a surprise to me!" Ash responded, hostile. "But why would they want to help? And how do we know we can still trust them?"

As much as I wanted to contribute my own thoughts, it was difficult. My lack of stamina was making the thought of talking a strain, and all I could do was helplessly watch my fate being fought out between two warring sides. The times I looked towards Team Rocket, I gave them soft smiles, looks of gratitude. I wanted them to see that I was willing to accept the help, that I trusted Brock and them. But Ash's perspective of the situation was not one to toss away, either. After all, this was Team Rocket, but I was too out of it now to be pessimistic. I wanted to just get out of there.

Jessie snapped in Ash's direction. "Because, _twerp_, no matter how mean and nasty and inconsiderate we may be, we also know when our help is direly needed."

At that, I shuddered as her eyes set upon me, softening considerably. She crawled over to me and examined me frugally, even lifting up my bandage once. I didn't dare move as she did, letting her know I was fully accepting her aid, but I knew Ash wasn't happy. I was still resting on his lap, and I could feel him tense as she hovered over me.

Silence took over the tent as she looked over me. "Are you feeling all right, uh…?"

"Misty," I mumbled with a garbled chuckle.

She sweatdropped. "R-right, Misty."

"I'm tired and I have a little bit of a headache," I replied simply, my voice dragging out the emphasis of my state.

Jessie looked up at Brock or Ash, probably both since they were right beside each other. Didn't matter. "She's going to need stitches," she murmured apathetically, sounding as if she herself didn't want to sound concerned for me. I knew better, though.

"I figured that," Brock answered.

Jessie got up from me and went over to James and Meowth, who were looking over the scene with squeamish faces. She stopped before them and looked back, her expression listless.

"Come on," she spoke dully. That was for Brock to come in.

"Misty," he said lightly, "Team Rocket is going to fly us out of the cemetery in their hot-air balloon, okay? You going to have to get up and walk with us."

I think I stunned him with my lack of hesitation as I pushed myself off Ash's lap abruptly, immediately feeling his and Brock's hands assisting me on. To me, I couldn't have waited longer for those words, whether they referred to how I was or where we were. I was just happy that soon my troubles would be extinguished. My head didn't agree too much with my aspiration, however; it nearly brought me down again with its aching weight.

"Easy, Misty," Ash's trembling voice uttered. "Be careful."

I was glad to hear that he wasn't objecting to Team Rocket helping anymore, but that didn't necessarily mean he wasn't still upset about it. At this point, though, he had no choice. I wasn't angry with him at all about how he reacted—it was more than expected.

Brock and Ash whispered to me encouragingly as I got up and crawled out the tent, making sure Ash grabbed Togepi and my bag. When he returned to me and reluctantly placed Togepi in my arms after I badgered him to, he slipped his arm into mine and huddled close to me. Despite the fact that Brock was on my immediate other side, I didn't resist laying my head on Ash's shoulder.

We left the tent behind, and as we followed Team Rocket through the dark, endless cemetery that had once chilled me to the bone, I felt more than comforted. Maybe because I had two people beside me who I cared so deeply about, or maybe because of my injury, but I'd lean towards the first. I closed my eyes a few times as we walked on, listening to Ash's coarse breathing and nuzzling my face against the warmth of his shoulder. My nose even tickled a few times as his hair skimmed against it, taking in his familiar scent.

"Ash…" I whispered, ending there, never really having anything else to go with the statement.

"Don't worry, Misty," Ash replied just as softly. "Even though Team Rocket's helping us out, I'm gonna make sure you get better tonight. I'll make sure of it."

I smiled broadly, taking a deep whiff of the fresh night air around us, and nestled more into Ash. I squeezed his arm tightly and rubbed my cheek against it. I wondered if, just for fun, he'd tell me a story as we traveled to where they were taking me, not to ease my fears anymore or make my pain go away, but just to hear him talk.

No one spoke, however. Team Rocket was always ahead of us, turning around occasionally to see if we were still there, mostly glancing at me. We got to the balloon barely minutes later, and James lifted me into it, being very careful with me. For once, I was glad of their unending stalking. I was sure to smile and thank him, as I did with all three of them until they got me to the Pokémon Center, where Nurse Joy willingly and swiftly contacted the town's physician to call upon me.

Team Rocket left quietly after that, and even Ash felt obliged to thank them for their service. They just smiled smugly and accepting it, accompanying with that a promise that we would meet again under "normal" circumstances. Same old Team Rocket, but once again, as they'd proved other times, they had just as much heart in them as they did corruption. No matter how indifferent they were to act about the ordeal, I still knew that deep down they were glad to help.

Once they were gone, Ash was again focused entirely on me. Not to say that Brock wasn't, for the poor guy nearly asked how I was every ten seconds and attended to my bandage even more. He didn't even take a second-look at the Nurse Joy, who was fussing over me just as much. But Ash…the bond we had fortified in just the short time that night never let me go. I felt its strength between us as he knelt beside me where I lay on the examining table intended for Pokémon, gripping my hand so tightly it drew perspiration. His brow continuously furrowed as he watched over me, shooting his attention often to the clock that hung on the wall, wondering ceaselessly when the doctor would come.

When he did arrive, a whole new feeling swept through me. Nothing could match the happiness and relief I experienced as his tender face greeted me, his warm hand reaching out to remove my sticky bandage. He lips pursed when he saw my injury, hanging over me to gently look over it.

"Ooh," he cringed slightly, being sure to replace his recoil with a comforting smile. It was a weird feeling to not have my bandage replaced. I felt every breeze and chill rush across my forehead, stinging it. It didn't matter any more, though; I knew I was in good hands now.

"What happened to you, honey?" the doctor asked, brushing some of my sweaty hair from my face.

Ash and Brock were beside me to inform him on all that, and he was no doubt surprised to hear my uncommon predicament. He told me that he didn't want to hesitate any longer, that my wound was quite large, and I had, in fact, lost a substantial—but not dangerous—amount of blood, which was most certainly the cause of my extreme weariness. Stitches were a given. He was very impressed to see how well Ash and Brock had attended to my injury, telling them that their mature and thoughtful actions made a great difference. They blushed wildly, and I was especially thrilled to see that in Brock, who I knew I'd be thanking repeatedly for his wonderful handling of such a stressful event for as long as I could remember.

Ash, on the other hand, was something entirely different. Brock's magnificent work was over, but I still needed Ash. As the doctor tried to usher Brock and Ash from the table, I grabbed hold of Ash's hand.

"Can Ash stay with me, please?" I whispered, my words garbled. The doctor looked ready to object, but after the small pleas I gave, he smiled and relented. While Brock stepped aside and Nurse Joy stayed on hand to help out with anything she could, Ash knelt beside me and clutched my hand in his.

"You're gonna be fine, Misty," he spoke softly into my ear. I glanced up into his gleaming eyes and smiled weakly, taking a deep breath to calm my trembling nerves.

"Sure she will," the doctor agreed, opening his bag and pulling out some supplies. I didn't watch him do it. I had turned back to look at Ash. "She's a strong girl to have already gone through this."

"I know," Ash chuckled, never taking his eyes off of me.

He continued to smile with such tenderness as the doctor began to wipe my blood away and wash my wound with peroxide, which stung _horribly_. I winched like crazy and let out a few groans of displeasure, already wondering how I was going to get through this. Ash shushed me relaxingly through this first ordeal, which was quite long. I guess the germs needed to be killed before the stitches, but I wanted this over as quickly as possible. Though the pain was what was mostly on my mind, I was still shaking uncontrollably, deathly nervous. I knew Ash sensed this, for he squeezed my hand even tighter and jiggled it a little to relieve the tension of the moment.

"It's okay," he whispered delicately.

"You're doing fine, sweetheart," the doctor told me, his voice still flowing. "You're doing great. Don't worry, I'm done with that."

I took yet another deep breath, more than gladdened to hear that. The sting was subsiding, but it still smarted uncomfortably. Rolling my eyes forward, they locked on Brock. He looked worried when I caught him, but he gave me a friendly wink nonetheless, waving sweetly. I couldn't wave back, which I really wanted to, so I just smiled back.

"Misty," the doctor said, bringing my attention from Brock. He waited for our eyes to meet before he continued. "I'm going to start the stitches now, all right? I'm going to give you some topical anesthetic, but it'll hurt still just a tiny little bit. It won't take long, I promise. Okay?"

"Okay," I answered, my voice raspy. I was scared, but tried to remember all that Ash had told me and how I shouldn't be worried. I wasn't the first person to have ever gone through this, after all, but it was hard to be brave. I decided to shut my eyes, knowing well that Ash didn't suspect I was trying to sneak off into sleep again.

The doctor smeared a bit of topical anesthetic on my forehead, and I immediately felt the sting abate slightly. When the needle came to my head for the first time, I could still feel the sharp pinch. I balked and gripped Ash's hand furiously as I felt it pierce my already sensitive skin.

"Shhh," Ash soothed me. "It's okay."

I relaxed as he said this, but also because the needle was already through and out of my skin. The doctor paused a bit before going to continue. I winced again, not as much as the first time, though. The medicine was kicking in. I tried to keep myself steady to make it easier for the doctor.

Ash brought his other hand up and to clench mine as well, occasionally rubbing my arm up and down as the doctor continued to sew me up. It wasn't that bad, the worst being the first time. As he continued, the pain and shock of it subsided, but never did Ash's words. I spoke with the doctor the few times he addressed me during the procedure, but mostly I talked with Ash, asking him to tell me what was happening and how far done I was. I was surprised to see Ash watching the whole thing attentively, never once flinching from a sight I'd probably faint over.

It really didn't take that long, and before I knew it, Ash smiled to tell me that it was done, which the doctor confirmed. He taped some heavy gauze to my forehead and patted it down sensitively, pinching my nose playfully to end on a soft note.

"All done, Misty," he said blissfully, almost like he was as thankful for it to be over as I was. "You're going to be okay."

"I am?" I asked hopefully, letting my grin extend. "Thank you, doctor."

"You're more than welcome."

I blinked long and easily, breathing a sigh. "Can I sleep now?"

Ash and the doctor laughed, adding to the swift feeling of joy as my anxiety melted away. Brock and Nurse Joy came up beside me and gazed down at me, as well. I didn't mind all the eyes on me…it made me feel comforted. I joined in on their laughs, but I was still tensely awaiting the doctor's word. Sleep remained the one thing on my mind.

"I don't see why not, honey," the doctor replied. "You've done a great job of keeping yourself awake up until this point. I think you're out of the danger zone."

My head instantly twisted towards Ash, and I gave him a fantastic smile. He matched it effortlessly, looking about as pleased and utterly relieved as I was. It was cute—in a way, it almost seemed like he had gone through the procedure, as well. I couldn't take my eyes off him. It was like we had lapsed into our own world, like we were supposed to go through this together, to have this happy ending. Nothing could explain the way my body was relaxing or how my pain and fear were just wasting away. But as the word "sleep" danced about in my head, Ash's face gazing down at me vanished every few seconds as my eyelids fell heavily and rhythmically.

* * *

I'll tell ya, I'd never expected I'd be in that bed in the Pokémon Center that night. But there I was, resting comfortably on my back not half-an-hour later, the sheets brought up to my chin warmly and Togepi cuddled beside me. It was absolute heaven, the best feeling I'd felt in days. The room was lit, as Brock and Ash were still up and about in preparation for the night, attending to our simple means while I was patiently awaiting their return. At least I knew they weren't going to try to scare me anymore.

Ash was the first one to return, cautiously opening our door and sticking his head through first, a huge grin sweeping from one ear to the other. I opened my eyes to greet him, pathetically matching his exuberant beam with a weak smirk. My whole body melted upon seeing him, cascading through me a pleasant wave of comfort and content. It was weird, but in that short time Ash was not with me, there was an empty feeling that wracked me, only to be overflowed with the sight of his adorable face poking through that crack in the doorway. I beckoned him over to me, groaning a comical 'hello.'

Ash shuffled his way in with Pikachu at his side, closing the door almost sneakily behind him. I couldn't get over how silly he was since my operation was over, knowing that his nonsensical acting was keeping up with the current mood of the night. The hyperness in between the tense moments was still fresh in our minds, and yet, how could it not be? No longer was the fact that we had been locked in a cemetery, or that we had gotten on each other's nerves so viciously, or that I had nearly killed myself after smashing my head against a gravestone important. None of that was on our minds. Tip-toeing quietly over to me, Ash cocked his head playfully and bared his flashy, white (and hopefully brushed) teeth in a tremendously giddy smile. Pikachu hopped onto my bed, nuzzling his cuddly head against my face.

"What are you so happy about, Ash Ketchum?" I sneered at him, narrowing my eyes in good fun.

Ash shrugged crazily, hopping down to kneel beside my bed. I stroked Pikachu's fur as I stared rigidly at him, biting the grin off my lips. Ash just stared back, bunching his face as if to ware me down.

"Where's Brock?"

"I killed him," Ash replied impassively.

"Oh, really?" I replied, my eyes arching. Not that it was much of an arch; they were barely open as it was.

"Yeah," Ash sighed, nodding. "Just couldn't stand sharing a sink with him to brush my teeth."

Well, that answered that question. I chuckled, both from his stupid little joke and my own inside one, as well. I stretched, jutting my feet out from the blanket at the end and yawning loudly. Just as last time, Ash yawned, too.

"Quit copying me," I warned, reaching out to teasingly yank his ear.

"It's addicting," Ash replied, followed by another yawn.

"Well, it _is_ late, so I guess you can get away with it tonight."

"Good," he answered. "Because I really am pooped out. And you should be, too."

I sighed. "Trust me, _I am_."

"I won't disagree with that," Ash said. "I really can't believe you're not out already! I was expecting to come in here before and see you snoring away."

I smiled, looking down at Pikachu. The little guy was now sprawled across my stomach upside-down, immersed in the belly-rub I was giving him. As cute as it was, Ash sitting right next to me was drawing my eyes more, much like he did all the time. But something was different tonight.

"I couldn't sleep yet," I told him.

"Why not?"

"Because I had to see you before I went to bed," I mumbled. "I couldn't yet."

Ash's sleepy eyes drooped pleasingly at that. "Never bothered you before."

I tilted my head to signify the shrug I couldn't give lying down. "Well, it's different tonight."

Ash grinned. "Why, what do you want, a bedtime story or something? How 'bout the time I—"

"No, no, Ash!" I giggled, grabbing a fistful of his hair and playfully jerking his head back and forth. He laughed, too, yelping from my gentle tugging. "Tell me that tomorrow. I don't think I can stay awake _that_ much longer."

"Then what?"

"Because," I said, pausing a moment with my mouth agape, gazing at Pikachu's ears twitching with delight, "I owed you something before you went to bed tonight."

"Oh, geez," Ash groaned, throwing his face down into my comforter. "Couldn't you wait for tomorrow to punish me for what happened tonight? Oh wait! On second thought, you being all weak and all, maybe this would be a better time—"

"Ash!" I laughed, interrupting his crazy mumbling. "You're such a lunatic!" I softened my voice. "No, not that. This."

He backed away slightly as I hoisted myself up from the pillow, extending my arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tight. I embraced him with every thankful muscle I had in my body, leaning my head against his. It only took but a second for him to do the same, though his hug was a lot looser. It grew firmer as the hug lasted longer, neither one of us making a move or saying a word. I just listened to our breathing, gentle and calming. My fingers tenderly tugged at his warm shirt.

"Thanks for helping me through all that tonight, Ash," I whispered, basking in the wondrous sensation of the fervent embrace. My eyes shut radiantly. "I love ya."

I withdrew from the hug to gaze into Ash's face, which gleamed happily. He smiled, a dash of pink glowing beneath his eyes. He shrugged, running a hand through his floppy hair.

"Y-you're welcome," he replied, the whole statement coming out in a jittery sigh. His hand flew through his hair again and again, giggling apprehensively.

Ash didn't know what else to say, and I didn't want to torture him. Giving him another amiable smile, I whispered affably, "Good-night, Ash."

He didn't have a problem with that one, sweet boy. Standing up and brushing his shirt down, his beamed. His eyes shut momentarily, accompanied with a sleepy sigh.

"Good-night, Misty," he replied, reaching out to brush the hair off my bulgy bandage. My stomach fluttered with pleasure. "Sleep tight."

**The End**

Well, there you have it! Hope you liked my little ficcie! And, um, I'm pretty sure you're glad Misty ain't dead. ;;; What a relief, right? Heehee. Anyways, once more tons and tons and millions of thanks to all you readers out there. Thanks for the awesome, very appreciated reviews! I love you guys! I'll be back soon . . . if school doesn't kill me first. Especially Fridays at school. -- This used to be the one thing I looked forward to doing on Friday to make up for a horrible, hectic day, but hey . . . what can you do? LOL Thanks again!! _Spook_


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